I Thought I Knew You
by WhySoSeven
Summary: Angel Dust can't ruin the hotel's reputation if he can't go outside. Or, at least, that's what Alastor says. This is all in an effort to redeem Angel Dust and return his sense of humanity. However, returning Angel Dust's sense of humanity has some unexpected consequences. Very definite radiodust. Rated M for mild (VERY mild) gore, language, and mentions of Angel Dust's sex work.
1. Chapter 1: House Arrest

**Author's Note: **Guess who totally forgot they had this account and to upload/update all my fics! I'm very much into writing Hazbin Hotel now, so expect quite a bit of that. This one is a multi-chapter, and I'll post updates ever Thursday (provided I get the chance). Here's chapter 1, enjoy!

Angel Dust took a deep breath, his head leaning against his hotel room door. He really, really, _really _didn't want to go out there, not today. He didn't know what it was, but he just didn't think he could put up with Charlie's usual cheery bullshit, or Vaggie's constant threatening glare, or Alastor's creepy ass smile. He just couldn't do it, not today.

Then again, if he didn't step out of his room, one of them was sure to come and fetch him. And with his luck, it'd be Alastor. God damn he hated that bastard sometimes, with his constant grin and his high horse attitude. No, no he really didn't need them to send him, it was just best to suck it up and go outside himself.

Besides, breakfast sounded really good right now.

He opened his door and stepped out into the long, empty hallway. Luckily for him there weren't too many residents yet. He guessed his little stunt with Cherri didn't do much to attract the crowds. Not that this dumbass program worked anyway. Clearly he was the poster child of their failure, or so Alastor kept saying. With a soft sigh he made his way to the kitchen, the scent of eggs and toast making his stomach growl. He hadn't realized just how hungry he was until right then.

"Oh please, _please_ tell me that grubs for everyone." Angel Dust strolled into the kitchen, not even waiting for a response before he grabbed a plate. "Because, lemme tell ya, I am _starving_."

Nifty looked up from her place at the stove and giggled. "Of course it's for everyone, miss Angel Dust! The others have already gotten theirs and are waiting for you in the dining hall."

"I ain't a chick," Angel Dust snorted, grabbing a fork and scooping some of the eggs onto his plate.

"Yes ma'am, Angel Dust!"

"What did I just-" Angel Dust sighed and waved her off. "You know what? Nevermind. You do you, Nifty."

"Yes ma'am!"

Angel Dust shook his head before he headed to the dining hall, but he couldn't stop his soft smile. Sometimes he just couldn't with that little runt, but damn if she wasn't lovable as hell. Plus, her cooking was to die for. He walked into the dining hall where the others were already seated. Charlie and Vaggie were discussing the plans for the day, probably strategizing on how to get new saps for their little redemption scheme. Alastor had clearly long since finished his plate, and was fiddling with his radio and humming a soft tune. Husker was the only one who looked like he didn't want to be there as much as Angel Dust, no doubt he had been forced to eat with everyone else. Whether he had been forced by Charlie or Alastor had yet to be seen, but considering one was significantly more threatening than the other his money was on Alastor.

"Aww, don't tell me I missed the party." Angel Dust slipped into an empty seat next to Husker. He propped his elbows on the table and leaned over his plate, offering a sultry grin to Alastor. "Did ya miss me, babe?"

"In order to miss you, I'd first have to enjoy your company." There was no hesitation and not a hint of emotion. Once again Alastor showing off the fact that he is absolutely no fun whatsoever.

Oh well, his loss.

Angel Dust rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to his eggs. They smelled amazing as always, but that was Nifty's cooking for you. He took a bite and, oh, _damn _that was good stuff. It didn't take him long to scarf down his entire plate, and he was left wishing he had gotten more. He was way hungrier than he initially thought he was, but the kitchen was all the way over _there_, and he really didn't want to get up. Oh well, suffering it was. He pushed his plate away from him and rested his chin on his hands with a soft sigh. "So, we actually doin' somethin' today, or am I just gonna haf'ta be bored as hell?"

Charlie looked up from her planning session with Vaggie and offered a strained smile. "Sorry, Angel Dust, we have some campaigning to plan today. Do you have anything you've been meaning to do? You can take the day off, maybe relax a little?"

Ah. So that's how Charlie told people to fuck off. "You got it, toots. I gotta check in on my best gal pal anyway."

Vaggie narrowed her eyes in a glare. "Cherri Bomb? So you can go wreak havoc again? I don't think so."

"I think what Vaggie is _trying_ to say," Charlie shot her girlfriend a quick look, "is that Cherri Bomb isn't the best influence for your recovery…" She seemed to consider a moment before her face lit up in a grin. "Oh! Do you think she'd be willing to enroll in the program? You guys could definitely hang out then, and even help each other get better!"

"Cherri? Not a chance," Angel Dust snorted. "She thinks you broads are lame enough as it is. If she had to stay here the place would be leveled in, like, an hour _tops_."

Charlie immediately deflated. "Oh… well, I guess you would know her best."

"Then obviously it's a no." Vaggie stood and glared Angel Dust down. "After your little stunt with the news, you shouldn't be going anywhere near her. Or _anyone_ you used to hang out with."

Angel Dust furrowed his brow. "Really? Well, last time I checked, you can't exactly stop me."

Charlie cast her gaze to the table. "That's uh… that's, actually something we wanted to talk to you about."

Angel Dust cocked an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? How's that."

"If I may." Alastor stood, his grin taking on a twist of cruelty that Angel Dust really didn't like the look of. He set the tip of his microphone cane on the ground and leaned towards Angel Dust. "We've been discussing your recent behavior, and we've arrived at a solution that I believe will work _wonderfully_."

"Oh yeah?" Angel Dust leaned back a bit, eyes flicking over Alastor's face. He was sure his expression did nothing to hide the nervousness gnawing at his stomach. "And, uh, what solution would that be?"

"Why given your current situation, the nature of your so-called 'friends', and your behavior when you associate with them," Alastor leaned in a bit further, his eyes narrowing and his grin stretched just the slightest bit wider. "We've decided the best solution for you is _house arrest_."

For a moment, all fear was forgotten and replaced with outrage. Angel Dust stood and slammed his lower arms on the table. "_What?!_" He placed one of his upper arms on the table and pointed the other at Alastor's chest. "You can't fuckin' do that ta me! You can't even enforce that!"

"Oh, but we can," Alastor practically purred. "I have _more _than enough power to keep tabs on you and, really, we all think it would be best if you stayed away from such _bad influences_."

"Bullshit!" Angel Dust glared at Alastor with a snarl. "You and I both know Charlie would never agree to somethin' like that!"

"Actually…" Charlie's soft voice, riddled with guilt, tore his attention away from Alastor. He glanced over at her, she was rubbing her arm and looking at anything that wasn't him. "Alastor's right, we all talked about it and we _all _agreed… we know you're putting real effort into getting better," the look the other three gave her very much said otherwise, "and we know you're just doing your best, but friends like Cherri Bomb are really hindering your progress. I've been thinking, exposing you to people from your past life may be triggering relapses and maybe it's best if we just… don't?" She looked up at him with a tentative smile, hopeful that he would take it better than expected.

He was definitely not taking it better than expected.

Angel Dust stared at her, wide-eyed and slack jawed. Taking away his friends? His _friends_? Was she serious right now? He could understand the drugs, the sex, the violence, hell, he could even kind of understand the "problematic language", but this was a step too far. A step waaay too far.

"Fuck that, fuuuuuuck no!" He took a step back from the table. You're fuckin' _crazy_ if you think I'm goin' along with that shit! Fuck this, fuck you guys, I'm out."  
"Oh, Angel Dust." Angel Dust did not like how pleased Alastor sounded as he took a step forward, a predatory grin stretched wide across his features. Although Alastor was shorter than Angel Dust, the other demon had a way of looming over others. "Whoever said you had a choice in the matter?"

Angel Dust's eyes widened. "The fuck is that supposed to mean? This ain't a _prison_, you can't just lock me up like some kinda criminal!"

"Last time I checked, you _were_ a criminal. Both in life and in death." Alastor twirled his microphone a bit, eyes locked on Angel Dust like a fox sizing up a particularly helpless rabbit.

"But that doesn't mean that's what this is!" Charlie interjected, her grin betraying the nervousness she clearly felt. "Don't think of it as being locked up, think of it as a program to help you better yourself and grow into the person you want to be! It's only temporary so we can test how it works, I promise."

"Oh, so I _do _get a say in all this?" He crossed both sets of arms, glaring Charlie down. "'Cause I say no fuckin' way, toots."

"Well…" Charlie awkwardly glanced away. "I mean, not necessarily, we figured you might be… _resistant _to the idea at first, so Alastor volunteered to make sure you actually try it, but I _promise_ if it doesn't produce results within a month you can stop!"

"A _month_?!" Charlie winced at the shriek. "You can't keep me locked up for an entire month! The fuck am I supposed to do with myself for that long?!"

"I'm sorry Angel Dust, I really am." The sincerity in Charlie's voice irked him way more than Alastors faux friendliness ever could. "But I really think this is what it's going to take to make things better for you, and if we didn't all believe that we wouldn't be making you try it."

Angel Dust just stood there in shock, mis-matched eyes flitting from person to person in a search for any sign of support. When there was none, he snarled and turned on his heel to storm out. "Fine! Maybe I don't need to stay at this run-down, shitty ass hotel anyway! I'm sure I can win Val over with enough sugar, I'll just-"

He stumbled back with a squeal when Alastor seemingly materialized in front of him, his narrowed eyes betraying the insincerity of his grin. He took a step forward with each step Angel Dust scrambled backwards, arms held neatly behind his back. "Now now, Angel Dust, let's not be _hasty_." Static filled the last word, distorting Alastor's voice in a way that filled Angel Dust's stomach with dread. "Why not give Charlie's little experiment a chance, hmm? You signed up for this, regardless of what your reasons may have been, and now you must face the consequences."

Angel Dust swore Alastor was enjoying his panic. Damn sadist. Even so, as much as he hated it, there wasn't much he could do to fight back. Alastor could rip him to pieces without even breaking a sweat, his little show with Sir Pentious proved as much. As much as he hated it, going along with this absolute cluster fuck of a plan was probably his best, if not his _only_ option.

He glanced among the others one last time before bringing his gaze back to Alastor, not bothering to hide the fury in his glare. "Fine," he spat, "guess I can't stop ya. But don't blame me when this all goes up in flames. And I mean when this _literally _goes up in flames, because I get bored and burn the whole fuckin' place to the ground."

"Oh don't be dramatic! That's _my _job, after all." Alastor had the nerve to wink at him, that cheeky bastard.

"Yeah, whatever." Angel Dust shoved past Alastor and headed down the hall. "I'm going to my room, you all can go fuck yourselves with pitchforks." No one stopped him as he made his way around the corner and into his room, slamming his door behind him. After taking just a moment to process, he leaned back against his door with a heavy sigh and slid down to the floor, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around his legs. Fat Nuggetz perked his head up from his bed with a soft snort before getting up and trotting over, gently nuzzling Angel Dust. He couldn't help the faint smile that played on his lips at the show of affection. At least one thing here wasn't a complete bust. He reached out and gave Nuggetz a soft pat on the head, earning himself an affectionate snort.

"I know she means well, Nuggetz, an' I like her and all, but sometimes she just goes too far…"

Charlie's muffled voice came through the door, faint from the distance Angel Dust had put between himself and the rest of them. "Well, all things considered, I think that went surprisingly well!"

He froze mid-pat before groaning and resting his forehead on his knees.

"Nevermind. She's just fuckin' stupid."


	2. Chapter 2: Contraband

**Author's Note: **Here it is, chapter 2! Not going to lie, I struggled a bit with this one. Alastor's POV is definitely harder to write than Angel Dust's. Hope you guys all enjoy!

* * *

Alastor was a sadist.

That was something he could never deny. One of his favorite pastimes here in hell was watching lesser demons struggle through their miserable lives. Truth be told, that was one of the only reasons he signed up for the hotel in the first place. So he could entertain himself with the sight of Hell's lowliest continuously trying to better themselves, only to fail miserably and fall into the pits of despair time and time again. It was quality entertainment at it's finest.

However, when the tables were turned, that was an entirely different story. He did not appreciate feelings of fear or discomfort, and nothing made his ever-present smile falter more than the thought of himself displaying such weakness to another demon. Luckily for him, he was terrifying enough that anyone testing him was an extremely rare occurrence. Unless, of course, that anyone was a harlot named Angel Dust.

Alastor had to admit, part of him was impressed by Angel Dust's lack of preservation instinct. Most demons took one glance at him and turned tail. Angel Dust, on the other hand, had offered to suck his… well. What exactly he had offered was not of importance. What was important was that looking him dead (haha, dead) in the eyes and suggesting such services took either incredible courage or stupidity. From what he knew about Angel Dust, he would have to assume it was the latter. Regardless of the cause, the end result was the same. Angel Dust flustered Alastor, and Alastor _hated it_. So, when the opportunity arose to make Angel Dust squirm, Alastor jumped at the chance to return the favor.

Posing as Angel Dust's warden should, if nothing else, prove to be an interesting way to pass the time. He was sure to catch the other demon doing _something _he shouldn't, and he would delight in the opportunity to spoil whatever contraband fun he could. Angel Dust had pushed him too far for too long, now it was Alastor's pleasure to return the favor.

Speaking of his new duties, he did believe now was the prime opportunity for what would soon become a routine room search. Charlie had given Angel Dust the afternoon as one last sweet taste of freedom (Supervised, of course, and at Alastor's suggestion. Nothing was crueler than showing him exactly what he would be missing for the next month), so his room would be uninhabited for the next couple of hours. This was the perfect time for Alastor to get better acquainted with Angel Dust's room and all of its potential hiding places.

Humming a gentle tune, Alastor made his way to the room in question. He only hesitated for a moment before opening the door. He would be lying if he said part of him wasn't troubled with what he would potentially find. Alastor had no doubt Angel Dust had a hidden stash of alcohol and his beloved drugs, but that wasn't what concerned him. There was one thing Alastor was sure Angel Dust _had _to have hidden away and, as much as Alastor would much rather ignore it, he couldn't very well let him go on keeping it. Confiscating his, ahem, _toys_, would hit far harder than any missing substances. Although Alastor would never go on looking for such things of his own accord, watching Angel Dust agonize over their loss would be more than worth it.

He glanced around, taking in the room around him. He had never come here before, and he wrinkled his nose a bit when he was reminded why. It was very _pink_, the color making up the majority of the decor with both black and white accents. The bed was in the shape of a heart, because of _course_ it was, with silk sheets and incredibly plush, fluffy pillows. A soft, light pink rug rested near the foot of the bed, large enough to cover the center of the room. A television was pressed back onto the far wall, along with a small dresser. A bookcase sat near the bed along with a nightstand with a small, pink lamp. The dimmed lights of the room set a suggestive tone that made Alastor scoff, and the entirety of the place smelled very much like the night clubs he so adamantly refused to set foot in. Overall, Alastor could safely say it was _exactly_ what he had been expecting, save for two small details. The tidiness of the room and the fact that the bookcase was definitely not empty, and he had a hard time believing Angel Dust actually _read_. He ventured closer, peering at the titles out of curiosity. What was it that the other demon enjoyed from the literary arts?

_Oh._

Alastor's smile faltered for just a moment before he turned away. Those were not, in fact, books, but rather his very _extensive_ collection of his own… _films_. He vaguely remembered Charlie mentioning letting him keep them, as they were something he _made _rather than indulged in, and of course he would keep them front and center. How tacky.

Doing his best to put the films out of his mind, he continued to explore the small room. Now, if he were a certain sex-obsessed demon, where would he keep his stash? There were no obvious hiding places, not unless Angel Dust was simple enough to hide things under his bed.

...Alastor decided to check under the bed.

He bent down and pulled up the bed skirt, mentally preparing himself for anything he may find. He was surprised to find absolutely nothing.

"Hm. Maybe not so simple after all." He let the skirt fall before he straightened up, glancing around the rest of the room. Where else to check? He peeked in the drawers of the dresser next, pleasantly surprised with what he found. Although there were a few more risque lingerie items, the majority of the casual wear looked to be more for comfort and less for style. Oversized, soft sweaters, loose shorts, clothing he never would have thought Angel Dust found appealing. He peeked under the clothes and felt around the drawers, checking for hidden items and false bottoms. Surprisingly enough, he found nothing. Alastor pursed his lips as he scanned the rest of the room, arms tucked behind his back as he took slow steps around the perimeter. If he were Angel Dust, where would he-

A soft creak underneath his foot caught his attention. That was odd, the floorboards of the hotel rarely made a sound. He looked down, brows furrowed. The floor had creaked from _under_ the rug. The perfect cover for if someone had wrenched up one of the floorboards and wanted to hide it. His grin widened as he knelt and shoved the rug aside, quickly spotting the one board that was up slightly higher than the rest. Pulling it back took little to no effort on his part, and he was greeted by the sight of a rather extensive stash of bottles of liquor and several bags of white powder.

"There we go!" His giddy tone betrayed his delight. "Now, I _knew_ you were struggling, dear Angel Dust, but my my if you don't keep enough to truly _indulge_."

He wasted no time emptying the crevice, making sure nothing remained before he put everything else back the way he found it. There, that was one less thing Angel Dust could abuse during his house arrest. Although, Alastor couldn't help but notice that there was something missing. Angel Dust specialized in one thing, and Alastor was well aware that he had an assortment of tools. He had mentioned his fondness for them on a number of occasions, much to Alastor's disgust. If he hadn't put all of his contraband in one place, where else could he have possibly hid them?

Alastor had to admit, Angel Dust was more clever than he had expected.

He spent the next few minutes searching the rest of the room, looking everywhere from behind the television to the insides of the bed posts. When his search proved fruitless, he was left frustrated and at a loss. Alastor knew Angel Dust had ties with the mafia during his former life, and that that meant he probably was no stranger to finding wonderful hiding places, but this was absolutely ridiculous. Angel Dust was definitely not one of the craftier demons in hell, and Alastor would be _damned_ if he was outsmarted by a drug addicted, sex obsessed harlot.

He scanned the room one last time with a sigh. He had searched _everything_. Maybe he had been mistaken in his assumption. Maybe Angel Dust _hadn't_ managed to keep his beloved "toys". Maybe the only thing he had kept from his former life as a pornography star was the collection of films that lined his bookcase.

Alastor's eyes widened. The _bookcase_. He had been so eager to avoid it that he hadn't bothered to examine it for possible hiding places. He hesitated for only a moment before he dared venture over, inspecting the thing far closer than he ever would have liked. Nothing out of the ordinary on the surface, just rows of films that Alastor would much rather had not been there. He considered a moment before he pulled them off the shelf one by one, opening the case and inspecting it before closing it and putting it back in its place. Well, he certainly wasn't hiding anything _inside_ of the cases, which meant Alastor had exposed himself to those graphic covers for nothing. There were parts of Angel Dust he would have been happy living the entirety of his afterlife without seeing, and he would really have rathered it had stayed that way. Oh well.

He leaned to look at the back of the bookcase, eyes running over it to spot and irregularities. He was highly disappointed to find none. It was clearly an ordinary bookcase, much to his disappointment. He supposed confiscating the drugs would have to do. He gave the bookcase one last glance over before heading out, but something made him stop. The bookcase was fairly wide from front to back, that much was clear from examining the why, pray tell, were the shelves so shallow? There was hardly room for even the films to fit, the disc cases pushed nearly to the very front edge. He paused before stepping closer to the shelf, bringing up a hesitant hand to knock on the back wall. He was rewarded with a soft, hollow sound.

Alastor's grin widened with the discovery, his eyes glinting deviously. He had to admit, a false back was crafty, more clever than anything he would have expected Angel Dust to come up with. Once he cleared the shelves of films, he was able to see just how seamless the set-up was. Nearly flawless, save for the back of the shelf not lining up with the back of the case. Really, it was brilliant, but not brilliant enough. He removed the false back, revealing rows of instruments that could only have one purpose. Alastor sighed and materialized a bag into his hand. Although he would rather not touch any of these, especially while knowing where exactly they had been, it would be more than worth it when Angel Dust found them all missing.

Alastor just hoped that he was around to hear his cries of anguish at the discovery.

-xxx-

Angel Dust made his way back to his room, Fat Nuggetz cradled in his arms. If this was going to be the last time he was going outside for a while, it was only fair that his pet got to go too. He doubted anyone would be willing to walk them, and they needed the not-so-fresh air as much as he did. He stepped into his room and sat Nuggetz down with a sigh. "Alright, Nugz, guess this starts now…"

Angel Dust stopped and tensed. Something was wrong.

He scanned the room, looking for anything that may have caught his attention. Was it just him, or was the rug just slightly off? His eyes widened. Oh, oh no, not the rug. Angel Dust didn't hesitate to kneel and rip the rug up, eyes darting to the floor board he had pried up when he first moved in. It came up easier than usual and he was greeted with the sight of an empty cavity. He sat there in shock for a moment before he felt rage begin to bubble up in his stomach. Vaggie and Charlie had both been out with him, so this left only one culprit.

"My drugs! That son of a bitch!" He snarled, gripping the floorboard tight enough to crack it. "Nuggetz, I swear to _fuck_, when I find that dial-eyed bastard I'm gonna rip him to _pieces_,"

Of course, when Angel Dust took a moment to consider, it was very clear that there was _nothing_ he could do to Alastor for this. Even if Alastor wasn't powerful enough to make challenging him impossible, there was no way to confront him without admitting he had the stash in the first place. It was the perfect crime, and it really pissed Angel Dust off. He took a deep breath to calm himself so he could think. Okay, so Alastor had taken his drugs and alcohol, and withdrawal was probably going to be a bitch. But at least there was one thing he _hadn't_ found. His eyes wandered over to his bookcase, his personal collection perfectly in place. Just as he had left it.

"At least I get to keep _somethin'_," he murmured to himself as he stood and walked over to the shelves. With practiced hands he took out the false back, not even disturbing the DVD cases that rested in front of it. However, his smile was quick to fade when he discovered that this too was empty. "No, no no no no _no_, how?!" He ripped off the backs of the other shelves, desperate to find _something_ that remained. He threw the boards down on the floor with a cry when his search proved fruitless.

"ALASTOR, YOU MOTHERFUCKER, I'LL KILL YOU!"

-xxx-

"ALASTOR, YOU MOTHERFUCKER, I'LL KILL YOU!"

Alastor glanced up from his book as Angel Dust's voice echoed through the empty hotel hallways, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. Ah yes, there were the cries he had been waiting for.

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**Author's Note: **That's all for now! If you want min-updates and sneak peeks, be sure to check out my tumblr,

Stay classy, y'all!


	3. Chapter 3: Let's Make A Deal

**Author's Note:** Here it is, the longest chapter yet! So far each chapter has been longer than the previous one, if this keeps up you guys are gonna start getting mini novels. Special thanks to AngeliaDark for a little help at the end of the chapter that solved all of my problems!

* * *

It was day one.

Angel Dust once again found himself in the dining hall, glaring at the demon sitting across from him. He drummed his fingers against the tabletop as he studied that ever-present smile. He knew it was Alastor who raided his room. He _knew_ it. But what the hell could he do about it?

He couldn't confront him, that would be admitting he had the stuff in the first place. The last thing he needed was Charlie finding out. Even if he confronted Alastor in private, more than likely that would lead to a very _dead_ Angel Dust. If he could help it, he really preferred staying alive. Or, well, undead. He would consider retaliation, but he didn't need other things he owned being taken because they were deemed a "bad influence", or whatever else Alastor came up with to make his life more miserable than it already was. Knowing him, he would somehow make up an excuse to take Fat Nuggetz, and Angel Dust didn't think he'd be able to cope with that one. So, short answer, he couldn't do a damn thing.

God fucking damn it.

"Is everything okay, Angel Dust?"

The concern in Charlie's tone snapped Angel Dust from his thoughts. He glanced up, met with a worried expression. He sighed and straightened up, setting his fork down on his plate. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just not hungry."

Angel Dust didn't miss the way Alastor's smile widened just a notch and his eyes narrowed. "Oh but, Angel Dust, you've hardly touched your breakfast! Did you have a… _rough night_?"

Angel Dust felt fury bubble up in his stomach. Of course, of _course_ the cheeky bastard would openly taunt him, because Alastor was well aware that there wasn't a damn thing Angel Dust could do about it. However, after a second's pause, a slow, easy smirk replaced his glare. Or was there? Angel Dust leaned his elbows against the table and rested his chin in his hands, making sure his chest was extra fluffed and in full view. His voice came as a low purr, his eyes half-lidded in a way he knew made other demons just _melt_. "Sure did, sugar. What, did'ya feel me thinkin' 'bout ya?"

Oh, how the tables turned. Alastors sadistic grin quickly faded, replaced with a nervous smile. "I, aehm… p-pardon?"

"You heard me, baby," Angel practically moaned, shimmying his shoulders a bit and batting his eyelashes. "I mean, if you're curious, you can always _join_ me, I'd be happy to have the company."

"I-I don't, um…" There it was, damn it was too easy sometimes. One suggestive comment and that tough guy act just crumbled away. Whatever Alastor came up with as retaliation later, this was more than worth it.

"Angel Dust!" His attention snapped to Vaggie, who did _not_ look happy with his little display. Her arms were crossed and she had a glare like she was trying to burn holes through his forehead.

Knowing Vaggie and how much she disliked Angel Dust, she probably was.

"You really have to do this _here_?" She snapped. "Some of us are trying to eat, you know."

"Yeah, and some of us are trying to _get_ eaten," Angel Dust retorted. Remembering Alastor's rumored cannibalistic tendencies, he thought better of his comment and shot a wink towards Alastor. "In the fun way, I mean."

It would seem as if that was Alastor's last straw. He stood abruptly, almost knocking his chair backwards. His voice was filled with static and had a slightly panicked tone that was music to Angel Dust's ears. "Would you look at the time! I have a… thing to do. Yes, a thing! Goodbye." He was gone before anyone could stop him, not that anyone wanted to try.

"Wow, that's gotta be his weakest excuse yet," Angel Dust mused, examining the claws on one of his hands. "I think I'm actually getting _better_ at this, and I didn't even think that was possible."

"You're _supposed _to be becoming a better person," Vaggie grumbled, standing and picking up her plate. "I've lost my appetite.

"Hey, two for one! Look at me go," Angel dust grinned, clearly way to proud of himself. Even Charlie gave a somewhat exasperated sigh.

"Angel Dust, I know you're upset about being under house arrest, but do you really have to retaliate?" Angel Dust chose to ignore the soft pang of guilt he felt at the disappointment in Charlie's tone.

"Who said I was retaliating?" He huffed, crossing his arms and slouching back in his chair. "Gotta entertain myself _somehow_, considering I'm not even allowed to go _outside_."

Charlie frowned, studying Angel Dust for a moment before speaking. "I know this isn't going to be easy, but it really is for your own good. We wouldn't be doing it if we didn't think it would honestly help in your redemption."

Angel Dust almost couldn't help the eye roll, because of _course_ that's what she would say. "Yeah, well maybe I don't _want_ to be redeemed. Didj'a ever think of that?"

"Of course you do," Angel Dust didn't miss the nervousness that tainter her smile. "I mean, why else would you be at the hotel? You volunteered, remember? To get better?"

"Oh gee, I don't know." Angel Dust stood, not bothering to pick up his untouched plate. "Maybe because this place is _free_? I needed a place to stay before the extermination hit, this is a place to stay that don't charge rent. It ain't rocket science, toots."  
"I know you don't mean that!" Charlie's hopeful smile and the optimism in her tone were infuriating. "You wouldn't be here if there wasn't some part of you that didn't want to get better, and that's exactly what we'll help you achieve!"

"Yeah, sure, whatever you say. I'm going to my room." Angel Dust didn't give her a chance to respond before he walked off in a huff. Who did she think she was? As if he'd ever actually fall for her little redemption scam. There was no way even _she_ believed that bullshit. But, hey, who was he to tell her how to live her life. He made his way back to his room. If nothing else he could just snuggle with Fat Nuggetz, the only one in this whole damn hotel who wasn't royally getting on his nerves right now. It wasn't until his hand rested on the doorknob that he heard the radio static.

That god damn radio static.

"Fuck off, smiles." He didn't even turn to face the demon that he knew had to be standing right behind him, creepy ass motherfucker.

"I'm just checking on you," Alastor purred, clearly recovered from earlier. Damn that was fast. "I mean, that _is_ my job now, after all."

"Oh bullshit," Angel Dust pushed his door open and walked inside. Nuggetz perked up with his return, and shrank back when he spotted Alastor. "You're just enjoying making my life as fucked as possible and we both know it."

Alastor hesitated before venturing inside behind Angel Dust, glancing around the now familiar room. "Nonsense, my dear! I'm simply doing what any good, ah, _caretaker_ would do and checking in on my ward."

"You're not a caretaker, you're a _warden_." Angel Dust flopped over on his bed, resting his upper arms over his eyes. "Don't try to sugarcoat what this is."

"Oh, I would _never_." Alastor's grin widened a notch.

Angel Dust peeked out from under his arms, irritation and bitterness leaving a sour tang in his mouth. "You just let yourself right on in now, huh?"

"You could say that." Alastor absentmindedly spun his microphone in place. "You could say I've already acquainted myself with your quarters."

Oh this brazen bitch. Angel Dust didn't exactly expect Alastor to hide it, but this was ballsy as hell. "Oh, so you admit it then?"

"Admit _what_? You'll have to be more specific." Alastor's eyes wandered back over to Angel Dust, clearly enjoying this little game he was playing.

"You know very well what!" Angel Dust sat up with a glare. "I get takin' the drugs and booze, whatever, it sucks but I can deal with it. But the _toys_?! That shit's personal!"

"You mean the items you were in no way permitted to have?" His grin widened, once again taking on a sadistic tone. "Why, Angel Dust, I'm only doing the work I've been assigned. Don't you know, you'll never be redeemed if you're allowed to keep such… _belongings_."

"Oh, what, so you can't even _say_ 'sex toys'?" Angel Dust snorted, not missing the way those words made Alastor bristle. "We both know you don't give two shits about redemption, especially _my_ redemption, so save the act for Charlie."

"Regardless of my feelings about redemption, yours or otherwise, I've been given a job to do." The smirk Alastor was sporting was all the more infuriating. Oh what Angel Dust wouldn't give to punch those oversized teeth right out of his mouth.

"You don't care about your 'job'," Angel Dust made air quotations with his fingers to emphasize his point, "you just wanna make my life miserable. Well, you know what, _pal_? I'm already in hell, so do your worst. I don't got nothin' ta lose."

"Oh, we'll see about that." Alastor's sinister tone sent shudders down Angel Dust's spine, and he found himself rethinking his little challenge. Maybe that wasn't such a great idea after all.

However, he was nothing if not stubborn. "I guess we will," he huffed, crossing both sets of arms. "But I'll say this. I betcha you're gonna get sick of this little charade ya got goin' _long_ before ya get me ta give up."

Alastor perked in interest. "Oh? Is that so?"

"Yeah, it is." Angel Dust shifted uncomfortably, but he held his ground. He knew this was a bad idea, but damn it he was pissed and he had poor impulse control.

Alastor considered a moment, studying Angel Dust with an intensity he wasn't used to. It took everything he had to stay still and not show Alastor how much he was doubting his own words. Far too long of a pause passed before Alastor spoke again, his demeanor far too relaxed and his grin much too sharp. "Well, then, in that case, how about a wager?"

Angel cocked a brow. "What kinda wager?"

Alastor took a step closer, leaning forward so he was closer to eye level with Angel Dust. "Oh just the kind where, if _I_ win, you _leave_ this little establishment. You go home, to your filthy studio, and you _never_ come back. The kind where if I win, _when_ I win, and I so much as _see_ you again, I'll be sure to see to it that 'Angel Dust' is never heard from again."

Angel Dust felt his heart stop for a moment. _Leave_ the hotel? He was here for a reason, and it wasn't exactly by choice. He doubted he would actually be able to stay in the studio after what he had pulled, and even if he could Valentino was sure to make his life far worse than Alastor ever could. The thought alone made him sick to his stomach. On the other hand…

He was no stranger to deals, and he _could_ get this to work in his favor.

Angel Dust put on a cocky grin to match Alastor's, masking his own doubts. "Ya know what? You're on, baby. But what do _I_ get if _I_ win?"

Alastor paused and drew back, considering. "Hm. I suppose I hadn't thought of that, not that it will matter in the end. What is it that you'd want?"

Angel Dust considered a moment. What _did_ he want? This was a big opportunity here, he didn't want to waste it on a laugh. There were plenty of things that he could ask of Alastor, plenty of things that would make him squirm and be oh so satisfying to watch, but nothing that would benefit him in the long run. His mis-matched eyes widened when something came to mind. No, scratch that, there was _one_ thing he could ask for. One thing that would solve all of his problems, if he could just hold out for the next month.

He looked up at Alastor, newfound determination igniting his features. "Buy my contract from Valentino."

Alastor visibly faltered, his eyes widening in shock. "...pardon?"

Okay, this was good. He threw Alastor off his rhythm, this could work. "You heard me. If I win, _when_ I win, I want you to buy my contract." He mimicked Alastor's words in a faux display of confidence he prayed Alastor couldn't see through.

Alastor blinked away his shock and his wide grin masked anything else he may have felt. "Oh, is that all? Well that's easy enough! Not that it will matter, you won't be winning this little bet of ours." Alastor offered his hand, a green glow emanating from his palm. A blast of air shot past them both from the sheer force of his power, and Angel Dust felt uneasiness settle in the pit of his stomach like a rock. Alastor, on the other hand, looked nothing but confident. Excited, even, like a predator primed to go in for the kill. Like he knew he had won. "So, do we have a deal?"

This was a bad idea.

Angel Dust hesitated just a moment before taking the hand and giving it a firm shake. "Deal."

A burning sensation traveled from their conjoined hands up his arm, all the way to the side of his neck where it stuck like a pin. Angel Dust couldn't help his wince, and he didn't miss the way Alastor's grin darkened.

This was a really, _really_ bad idea.

And in an instant it was over. Angel Dust was left standing at a loss, whereas Alastor was already making his way to the door. "Wonderful! Just wonderful, pleasure doing business with you my good fellow! Now that that's settled, I must be on my way." Alastor opened the door and stepped through, offering Angel Dust one final glance that made his fur stand on end. "Until next time!" And with that, Alastor disappeared into the hallway.

Angel Dust just stood there, trying to process what had just happened. How much of a mistake was this going to be? What were his chances of even winning? He had never gone through withdrawal before, but he was sure it was going to be a bitch. Could he really hold out for an entire month?

Then again, when his thoughts drifted to what Valentino would do to him if he ever dared to go crawling back to the studio, he realized he didn't have much of a choice.

He was stuck with this deal, whether he liked it or not.

* * *

**Author's Note: **This is really idiots to lovers, isn't it. Thanks for reading, chapter 4 will be up next week! Stay classy y'all!


	4. Chapter 4: Regret

It was day two, and mistakes had been made.

_Why_ did he think making a deal like that was a good idea? What if he _lost_? He certainly didn't want to uphold his end if he did, but considering they had made a demon deal of all things he wouldn't exactly have much of a choice. This had been a bad idea from the start, and he was kicking himself for ever thinking of it.

Alastor briefly wondered if Angel Dust had the same regrets.

He was pacing in his room, and had been for at least half the night. This seemed as good a time as any to consider his options. Normally Alastor wouldn't be worried about Angel Dust possibly making it through a full month. He had no impulse control to speak of, and even if he did, he wasn't exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer and thinking over any consequences before he acted wasn't likely. However, one thing Alastor _didn't _ doubt was Angel Dust's dedication to making Alastor as uncomfortable as possible.

And Alastor had gone and made a very lopsided deal that was sure to do just that.

The way Alastor saw it, Angel Dust didn't stand to lose much. From the way he spoke, he was still on wonderful terms with Valentino. To be entirely honest, Alastor wasn't even entirely sure why he bothered to stay in the hotel in the first place. Boredom, perhaps? It was difficult to imagine Angel Dust sharing any motives similar to his own, but it was certainly possible. Whatever his reasoning may be, it didn't seem as if he would face any real consequences if he lost.

Alastor, on the other hand…

He was sure attempting to purchase Angel Dust's contract would result in nothing less than an all out war with Valentino. Though the likes of Valentino didn't exactly _worry_ Alastor, that didn't mean he had the time to deal with such conflict. To make matters worse, he wasn't sure what he would do with the contract once he acquired it. Given Valentino's status, he was sure it was something far more binding than simple pen and paper. That would imply it to be unnecessarily difficult to dispel, even for the likes of Alastor. If he had to spend the rest of his eternity with Angel Dust following him around like some kind of lost puppy, he wasn't entirely sure his sanity would be able to handle it.

Truth be told, he would never had made the deal had he thought it through. He had expected for Angel Dust to ask for something ridiculous, such as drugs or… other things Alastor would rather not think about. He was not at all expecting something so calculated, so _long term_. So when Angel Dust asked for Alastor to purchase his contract, he had felt so put on the spot that he had agreed without thinking. And oh, what a mistake that had been. He had been able to hide his concern at first, but the more he thought about it the more he realized he had put himself in a bit of a bind.

A knock at his door startled him to attention. He looked up, halting the loud radio static and screeching he hadn't been aware he was emitting. He hesitated only a moment before speaking, giving him time to compose himself. "Yes?"

"Alastor?" Charlie's voice came from the other side of the door. Of _course_ it was Charlie. "I was just coming to check on you, normally you're up by now. Are you okay?"

Up by now? A glance to his pocket watch showed it was nearly nine in the morning. He had been pacing far longer than he realized, it was a wonder he hadn't worn a path into the floorboards.

"I'm perfectly alright, my dear." The lie was effortless, as they always were. "I was just preoccupied with a…" Well, maybe not _effortless_. He did have to take a split second to think of something, he just hoped Charlie didn't notice. "...aaa lesson plan for Angel Dust! Yes, I believe I've come up with just the thing to get him through this… _difficult time_."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" From the excitement lacing her tone, it was safe to say she hadn't noticed a thing. "I can't believe I was worrying, you're always such a great help! I'll leave you to it!"

His sensitive ears twitched slightly as he listened to her footsteps fade down the hallway. Well, that was one crisis avoided. With that, he supposed it was time to leave his room. As much as he could pace and fret over this all day, he really didn't have the time. More importantly, he couldn't let Angel Dust know he had any doubts. The key to winning this was confidence, and in that category it would seem the two of them were nearly equally matched. If Angel Dust knew Alastor was even the slightest bit concerned, it could turn the tables of their deal faster than Alastor would be able to stop them. If he were honest with himself, the only way to really _guarantee_ a win would be sabotage.

He froze mid-step, his eyes widening. Oh. Oh that wasn't a bad thought at all. Sabotage would certainly get the job done, as dirty as it was. If he could _tempt_ Angel Dust into giving up on this whole ordeal and indulging in sin, as was his nature, Alastor was certain he would fail within _days_.

It would seem he hadn't lied to Charlie after all. He really was going to come up with lesson plan for Angel Dust, just not one that worked in his favor. Alastor materialized a pad and pen in his hands, furrowing his brows in thought. Now, what exactly would guarantee his victory? Angel Dust was very easily tempted, that much was easy to tell, but the key to this was to nail down his specific triggers and desires. Desires were simple enough, he clearly loved nothing more than to muddle his mind with drugs, liquor, and positively _atrocious_ activities. But _why_? That was the important part.

If Alastor had to guess, it was more than likely due partially to low self-esteem. Someone seeking that much notice clearly _needed_ it, and it was no secret that Angel Dust got a fairly significant amount of gratification from attention, positive or otherwise. So, in theory, without said attention he should seek to drown his sorrows with whatever means necessary. That was simple enough, seeing as how Angel Dust wasn't even allowed to leave the hotel without approval. But would it be enough? And even if it was, Alastor hadn't exactly left him with any means to break the rules of their little arrangement. He may have been _to_ thorough in his impromptu room search. Luckily for him, that was simple enough to fix. He opened the bottom drawer of his nightstand, finding the bag of contraband he had stashed there two days prior. It was filled with drugs, alcohol, and… _other_ items. Surely at least one of these would be enough to tempt Angel Dust into the familiar hold of sin and indulgence once more, thus delivering Alastor to success.

Alastor dumped the bag out on his floor, sitting to sort through it all. He separated the drugs and the alcohol, but elected to leave the tools where they lied. There was no need to touch them a _second_ time, he had had to take a rather long shower to feel clean again after the first time. Now, what out of these three would tempt Angel Dust the most? He couldn't very well go giving him everything, he had to make it seem as if the item had been overlooked in his initial search. If he put too many things back, or even just something too big, it would give away his scheme and he couldn't have that. No, he needed plausible deniability, especially if he intended to stay at this Hazbin Hotel. Something small…

He briefly glanced over the various substances, but he had a nagging feeling those may not be the best idea. There weren't many of them, and considering they had all been stuffed in the floorboards it would be difficult to make it look as if some had been left behind on accident. The tools, on the other hand… he hesitated before he shifted his gaze over to the various toys, more than he was sure even _Angel Dust_ knew what to do with. There _were_ a handful of smaller ones, it wouldn't be hard to believe that one of them had been left under some furniture or something of that nature. Even better, if it was something small Alastor would imagine it would be rather difficult to get any real gratification. Horrible disappointment _and_ having to leave the hotel for good? Now _that_ would be satisfying to watch.

He considered a moment before gingerly picking up a small, pink one with an odd shape to it. He had no idea how it worked or what its purpose was, but he supposed it didn't really matter. What mattered was it would tempt the harlot right into failure. Planting it should be easy enough, he could waltz right into Angel Dust's room as he pleased. He would come up with a, aehm, _lesson plan_, walk in to inform Angel Dust and go over the main points, and casually slip the toy somewhere inconspicuous. He stood and slipped the item into his pocket, making a mental note to burn this particular coat later and get himself a new one. Now all that was left to do was create the lesson plan. Figuring out the exact triggers to make Angel Dust relapse wouldn't be an easy feat, but he had a feeling Charlie would have more than enough information on him to at least get him started.

Alastor would just have to pay her a little visit.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Trying to describe a sex toy without Alastor having to actually describe a sex toy is a trip, let me tell you. The next chapter will be up on Thursday, stay classy y'all!


	5. Chapter 5: And So It Begins

It was day three and Angel Dust had some serious regrets. At first he had been able to just stuff down the anxiety and pretend everything was fine, but now that he had had a couple of days to think about it he realized just how big of a mistake this really was. What the hell had he been thinking? Alastor had nothing to lose in this deal, but Angel Dust practically had his life on the line. If he had to leave this hotel, there was only one place he could go. No way in hell he could go to Molly, she lived with their dad and he and Angel Dust were… not on good terms. No, the only place he could go was back to Valentino. It was bad enough he'd have to go back eventually, considering Val practically _owned_ him with that contract, but to have no other place to stay…

Considering he hadn't spoken to his pimp since before his "going clean" had ended up on the news, he'd almost rather face extermination than find out how he was going to be punished. Extermination would probably at least be less painful.

As if he hadn't dug himself into a deep enough hole, there was also the fact that he couldn't back out. He had made a demon deal with Alastor, _Alastor_ of all people, and who knew what the magical consequences were for breaking one of those. If Angel Dust was being honest, he was kind of terrified to find out. Then again, if _he_ won the bet, none of that would matter. No matter what Alastor did with his contract, it couldn't possibly be worse than Valentino.

A tap at his door pulled him from his thoughts. He groaned to himself, sitting up in his bed.

"Fuck off, Charlie, I'm not getting up yet." He had been lying awake for hours, anxiety not letting him sleep, but she didn't need to know that.

"Charlie has far better things to do than act as your personal alarm clock. That's my job now!"

Oh fuck it all. As much as he didn't want to see Charlie right now, Angel Dust would still take her over Alastor any day.

"Great! I'm still not getting up." Angel Dust wrapped himself back up in his covers and pulled a pillow over his head as if to emphasize his point, despite the fact that Alastor couldn't see him.

"Now now, no need for that!" Angel Dust heard his door swing open and the soft tap of Alastor's footsteps as he strolled into the room. "I've just come to go over your lesson plan with you!"

Angel Dust hesitated before he responded, confusion filling his muffled voice. "...lesson plan?"

"Yes, your lesson plan!" The genuine enthusiasm in Alastor's tone was suspicious as hell. "I spent all day yesterday coming up with one just for you! Why, if you follow it, you're guaranteed success and redemption!"

"Yeah, there's no way in hell this isn't straight up sabotage," Angel Dust scoffed from under his pillow. He may not have been the brightest crayon in the box, but there was no way in hell he was falling for something _that_ obvious. "Thanks but no thanks. You can play dirty all ya want, but I'm winning this and there ain't a damn thing you can do about it."

"Such accusations!" Alastor feigned the hurt in his tone. "Why Angel Dust, I would _never_ stoop to such levels! Though, I suppose if I _had_, that would put you in quite a bit of trouble!"

"Oh yeah?" Angel Dust pulled himself out from under his pillow to glare up at Alastor. He was sure his hair was an absolute mess and that he looked less than presentable, but he really couldn't find it within himself to care. "Any why's that, smiles?"

Alastor's grin turned sinister as he leaned in, tone betraying his true intentions. "Because this plan of mine has been Charlie checked and approved, meaning that if it _were_ sabotage, you would have no choice whatsoever but to follow it anyway."

Angel Dust's eyes widened. "You sneaky, underhanded little-"

"Now now, let's not get carried away!" Alastor's expression slipped back into its usual wide smile, his dark intentions once again hidden away. If Angel Dust had to guess, it probably came as easy to him as breathing. "Don't you want to hear what it is that I have planned for you, dear Angel Dust?"

"Maybe I don't." Angel Dust crossed both sets of arms and glared up at Alastor. "Whatch'a gonna do about it, huh?"

"Well, I suppose that would count as _giving up_," Alastor purred, flashing Angel Dust a knowing grin. "Which you are more than welcome to do at any time, if that's what you wish."

Angel Dust was sure there was someone he hated more than Alastor, but right now he could very honestly say no one at all came to mind.

"Not on your life, chuckles." He smoothed his hair back with a huff. "I'm sure I can take whatever ya whipped up and then some. Lay it on me."

"So glad you've come around!" The fact that Alastor looked genuinely glad didn't bode well. "Now, I think what I have planned will _really_ catch your attention. It certainly caught Charlie's! Though, I suppose it was bound to, given how invested she is in family affairs."

Angel Dust went rigid, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "And just what the fuck is _that_ supposed to mean?"

Alastor threw his arms out for dramatic flair, his grin stretched wide. "Why, it means you're going to reconcile with your estranged family of course!"

"LIKE FUCK I AM!"

The sound of a record scratch filled the room, Alastor staring at Angel Dust in surprise. Even Angel Dust himself was a bit taken aback by the outburst, but he was so angry he couldn't bring himself to care.

Alastor only took a moment to regain his composure, bringing his arms back in to straighten his bowtie. "Now, Angel Dust, let's not-"

"No, _no._" Angel Dust stood, giving Alastor a look that he desperately wished had been as deadly as it was malicious. He jabbed a finger in Alastor's direction, stalking towards him as he spoke. "You can do whatever else ya want ta me, I don't care, but that's crossing a _goddamn line!_ You leave that sonnovah bitch out of this or I will make your life _fuckin' miserable_, capiche?"

Alastor narrowed his eyes at Angel Dust's finger before flicking his gaze towards his face, his grin turning sharp. He took a step forward, the look he gave alone was enough to melt Angel Dust's confidence and make him shrink back. Maybe yelling at one of Hell's most powerful demons _hadn't _beenthe best idea.

"Now, see here, _Angel_." Angel Dust would have liked to say the tone didn't send a terrified shudder up his spine, making the fur on his back stand on end. Glitched static filled the air, muddling Alator's words. "If you would like to back out of our deal on the _third day_, be my guest. But I will _not_ be spoken to in such a manner, and if you thought otherwise you are _sorely _mistaken." In an instant the static and threatening grin were gone, his cheery demeanor back in place. "Now! We should leave soon, or we're going to be late. When can you be ready?"

Angel Dust was just left staring, not at all sure how to respond to that. Of course the answer was never, but it had been made clear he didn't have that option. He gave a defeated sigh. If this was something he had to do, it would be best to get it over with as quickly as possible. "Just… give me ten minutes, I guess."

"Splendid!" From the look on Alastor's face, it was clear he knew he had won. "I'll meet you in the lobby, don't keep me waiting!"

Angel Dust watched as Alastor made his way out of the room, trying desperately to calm his racing thoughts. This was bad. This was really, _really_ bad, and Angel Dust wasn't at all sure how he was going to deal with it. There was a reason he avoided his family at all costs, save for Molly, and this was sure to be a solid reminder as to why. After taking a moment to compose himself he took a step forward, pausing when he felt his boot kick something. The fuck? He looked down, eyes widening when he spotted a small, pink vibrator. Alastor must have missed it in his search. A grin made its way across his face when he realized it was a very familiar small, pink vibrator.

Holy shit, there really was a God.

Angel Dust scooped the toy up, not even hesitating to tear open the battery compartment and praying to anyone listening that this was the toy he thought he was. His hopes were confirmed when he saw a bag of white powder stuffed in where a battery should be and he felt relief wash over him. There was no way in hell he could do this sober, and now he didn't have to. He shook the bag out onto his hand, going to open it when something made him stop. If he took a dose, that would be giving up. That would be _losing_.

God fucking damn it.

He sighed and rubbed his face. He needed that high right now, more than anything, but it wasn't worth going back to Valentino. Nothing was. After a moment of consideration he closed the toy, opting to put the bag of drugs in one of the various DVD cases that sat on his shelf. He very highly doubted Alastor would be willing to even _look_ at the covers, let alone touch them. He would save the drugs as a celebration for when he won, or at least that's what he told himself to justify keeping them. There was no use in throwing them out and no harm in keeping them as long as he didn't use them, right?

As for the toy, Angel Dust turned it over in his hands a moment. It wasn't exactly all that useful without the batteries. Though, if he handed it over to Alastor, that was sure to irk him. Angel Dust on his absolute _best_ behavior, so much so that he was freely handing over contraband? He could feel the gold-star stickers Charlie undoubtedly had coming his way now. He pocketed the toy with a small smirk before making his way to the door. Alastor may have had a doozy of a month planned, but that didn't mean Angel Dust couldn't get a few licks in.

He was going to _own _this shit.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Anyone else get the feeling this isn't going to end well?


	6. Chapter 6: Family Reunion

**Author's Note: **This is twice as long as a normal chapter. It's literally a third of the entire fic so far, so please enjoy all 5.2k words of this monstrosity of a chapter while I go have some coffee. Mild gore in this chapter

* * *

Alastor checked his pocket watch, tapping his foot impatiently. It had been _twelve _minutes, not ten. Angel Dust was late. What could possibly be taking him so long? It couldn't take much time to get changed, he wore the exact same outfit nearly every day. He checked his watch again, huffing in irritation after seeing that yet another thirty seconds had passed. He then snapped it shut and stuffed it back into his pocket. "I'm going to go up and get him."

Charlie looked up from the ledger she was balancing at the bar, offering a tired smile. "You should be patient, Alastor. I'm sure he's just putting a little more thought into what he's wearing. After all, this is a really big step! He probably wants to look his best."

Alastor opened his mouth to retort before the soft thud of boots caught his attention. His ears flicked and he turned his head just in time to catch Angel Dust starting down the stairs. He was wearing dark jeans, a white t-shirt, and a black, leather jacket. His usual heeled boots were replaced with black work boots, and his pink pattern almost semed less vivid. He had never seen Angel Dust more uncomfortable in all his time knowing him.

He couldn't put his finger on why, but he quickly decided he was not at all fond of this new look.

"Wow, Angel, you look great!" Apparently Charlie did not share the sentiment.

Angel Dust snorted, brushing his hair back in what was clearly a nervous display. "Ya don't gotta lie, Charlie. I know this suits me 'bout as well as a hole in my head."

Now there was an interesting thought.

"Well, okay, maybe." Charlie hopped down from her bar stool and made her way over, adjusting the collar of his jacket and offering an understanding smile. "But you're really trying, and that's what matters."

Angel Dust rolled his eyes and swatted her hands away. "Yeah, tryin' ta not get my ass beat."

"Oh, I'm…" Charlie hesitated a moment, her supportive smile turning to an expression that was a little less than comfortable. "I'm _sure_ that won't happen, it's been a long time since you've gone home, I'm _sure_ they'll be happy to see you! And if they're not, well, after they hear about the progress you've made, they'll come around!"

"Yeah, no way in the nine circles I'm tellin' them about this. But nice try, toots."

"If they watch the news, pretty sure they already know," Husker offered from the bar. "That cluster fuck was kinda hard to miss."

Angel Dust shot him a nasty look. "Thanks for reminding me. Really needed somethin' else to worry about."

Husker shrugged and took a swig from his bottle. "I do my best."

Angel Dust rolled his eyes and crossed both sets of arms. "Look, can we just go? I wanna get this over with."

"But of course!" Alastor grinned, eager to leave. He was tired of all this stalling. "Right this way my dear, right this way!" He led Angel Dust to the door and held it open for him, following as soon as the spider demon stepped through. Alastor didn't miss the way Angel Dust glanced back at the doors as they slammed shut behind them, as if he'd give up a few of his many limbs to go back inside. _Perfect_.

"Guess I should lead the way, on account of you probably don't know where we're goin'," Angel Dust sighed.

"On the contrary!" Alastor strode to the lead with a grin. "I did my research, of course, so I know perfectly well where we're headed!"

"Oh yeah?" Angel Dust cocked a brow. There was a slight nervousness to his tone that Alastor found rather curious. "How _much_ research did you do?"

"Enough to know where they live." Alastor glanced back at him. "Enough to know you have a father and two siblings. An older brother, Arackniss I believe? And a twin sister named Molly. Enough to know that your mother has been nowhere to be found, more than likely sent to heaven, and that you're all here due to acts committed while serving the italian mafia."

"And?"

Alastor let his brow furrow in puzzlement. "...and? And nothing! That's all."

Angel Dust snorted, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Oh yeah, _this_ should be fun."

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" Alastor slowed so they were walking side-by-side, allowing himself to study Angel Dust's expression.

"You'll see, trust me."

Alastor was puzzled, to say the least. He had expected anger, resentment, maybe a tantrum, but this had more of the makings of a funeral march. Angel Dust didn't look rebellious as he usually did, he wasn't trying to make himself as insufferable as possible, he simply looked resigned to his fate. What could have been different?

Upon closer inspection, Alastor found that the faded coloring was due to a grey, makeup-like substance smeared over his natural pattern. He must have also deviated from his usual perfume because Angel Dust's usual strawberry-like scent was replaced with something significantly less pleasant, more musky. Why in the world would he feel it necessary to cover himself in makeup and cologne? A wardrobe change he could understand, Angel Dust's usual outfit was meant to woo potential clients rather than serve as proper attire for a reunion, but such a drastic change carried suggestions. It was as if he was trying to appear as masculine as possible, which very obviously did not suit him in the slightest.

For once in his afterlife, Alastor felt the slightest tinge of unease. "Is there something _else_ I should know?"

"Nothing that you're not gonna find out pretty damn fast." Angel Dust's gaze never left the sidewalk, not even looking ahead. Alastor briefly wondered how many times he had travelled this route to know it without so much as looking up. "Just let me do the talkin' while we're there and… I don't fuckin' know, just don't provoke him."

No, Alastor definitely did not like this. There was clearly something he had missed, something important. However, it would seem as if Angel Dust was finished talking, and Alastor spent the rest of the walk in uncomfortable silence. Angel Dust only stopped to look up when they reached their destination, mis-matched eyes scanning the run down house. Alastor took the opportunity to give it a once over himself, lip curling a bit at the sight. The entire place was in a complete state of disrepair, whoever owned it had clearly given up on maintenance long ago.

Well. He knew very well who owned it, and given the man's relation to Angel Dust he couldn't really say he was all that surprised at the clear lack of work ethic. He turned his attention back to Angel Dust, watching him take a moment to build his resolve. He took a deep breath, determination overcoming his features. "Alright, let's get this over with."

"Now, Angel Dust, is that any attitude to have? This is a reunion after all!" Alastor hoped his soft pry for information wasn't too obvious.

Even if it had been, Angel Dust clearly hadn't noticed. He shot Alastor a look, irritation seeping into his tone. "Just shut the fuck up and don't mention _anything_ to do with this whole house arrest thing. It's bad enough they probably know about the hotel, I don't need to deal with that whole load of shit too."

"As you wish, lead the way!" Normally Alastor wouldn't hesitate to retaliate against such a tone, terrifying the offender into submission, but his curiosity got the better of him. He followed as Angel Dust led the way up the crumbling walkway, not missing the way his legs trembled with every step. Alastor had never seen Angel Dust like this, it was as if he was walking up to the guillotine for execution rather than a simple family visit. Whatever had happened between Angel Dust and his family was clearly more than the petty squabble Alastor had assumed it had been. Whatever it was, he would find out soon enough.

After a second's hesitation Angel Dust brought his hand up to wrap his knuckles against the response was instantaneous, the voice on the other side deep and raspy. "Fuck off, we ain't buyin'!"

Angel Dust visibly winced, his own voice shaky when he spoke. "No, I ain't… pops, it's me."

Alastor watched as the door swung open, greeted by the strong scent of cigarettes and the sight of a hulking mass of a spider. Whatever Angel Dust was, he was small and dainty but _this_, this man had to be a tarantula. His fur was a dark grey and not nearly as well groomed Angel Dust's, and all eight of his white eyes narrowed at the softer spider.

"And just what the fuck d'_you _want?"

"I, uh, just thought I'd visit." Angel Dust shrunk back a bit, glancing to the side to avoid the accusatory stare. "Ya know since… since we're family and all…"

The larger spider snorted as if this amused him, but his expression clearly stated otherwise. "Are ya _stupid_, boy?"

Angel Dust swallowed. "Wh-what?"

"I said _are ya stupid?_" He took a step forward, his presence alone pushing Angel Dust a step back. Alastor furrowed his brow as he watched. He didn't quite like where this was headed. "Was I not _clear_ the last time, when I beat the livin' shit outta ya? Do you need a _reminder_? Because your pansy ass is not, has not been, and never _will_ be welcome in this h-"

"ANGIE!"

Alastor snapped his head in the direction of the excited squeal, catching sight of yet another spider demon. Did the entire family share the same species? That was _highly_ unusual for mortal born demons. This one was a stark contrast to the one looming over Angel Dust, her bright colors and big, bouncy hair were wonderfully eye catching. If Alastor had to guess, he'd say this was Angel Dust's twin sister. They certainly _looked_ as if they could be twins, and she was very clearly happy to see him. She made her way over to the door, doing her best to peek at them from behind the larger demon.

Angel Dust visibly relaxed, though the tense undertones to his posture were still present. His gaze flickered between the spider glaring down at him and his sister, his smile tentative. "Heh, hey there Molls, long time no see."

Molly paused, glancing between the larger spider and her brother. He gaze was calculating for a moment before she pouted, gently tugging on the larger spider's coat sleeve. "Oh daddy, can't he come in just for a few minutes? I've really _really_ missed him, and I'm sure it won't hurt nothin'."

Ah. So the larger spider must be Henroin, his father. Alastor briefly wondered where his brother was, and which of the two spiders in front of him he would more closely resembled.

Henroin seemed to consider for a moment, glancing back at Molly. His expression softened briefly before he glared back at Angel Dust. "Ya got five minutes. Ya stay a second longer and I break your damn l-" He seemed to only then notice Alastor's presence, his eyes widening. "What the absolute fuck is the _radio demon_ doing here?!"

Angel Dust glanced between his father and Alastor, panic clearly present on his features. "What? Oh, um, that's-"

"Hello, pleasure to meet you!" Alastor was eager to cut in, taking Henroin's hand and shaking it. "I'm just a dear friend of your son's, I thought I'd tag along for this little house call!"

Henroin looked him over with narrowed eyes. "A good friend, huh? Is that how they say payin' customer nowadays?"

Alastor's eyes narrowed right back with the comment, his smile tightening. He briefly wondered if the family reunion would still count if he disposed of one of them. Two out of three was acceptable, wasn't it? "I assure you, that is _not_ the case. We both merely share some social circles, and this has led to _quite_ the friendship."

"Uh-huh…" It was clear Henroin didn't quite believe him, but not many were so willing to openly oppose the infamous radio demon. "Fine, whatever, just don't wreck the damn house." He looked back to Angel Dust, expression turning to a sneer. "And _you_, I don't care who ya made nice with, ya still only got five minutes."

Alastor watched the hulking form retreat into the house before turning his gaze to Angel Dust. He let out a breath, one Alastor was sure he had been holding, and brushed his jacket off in a failed attempt to hide his trembling hands. Scarlet eyes followed Molly as she took his hand, intertwining their fingers with a small, soft smile before leading her brother into the house.

None of this was at all what Alastor had expected. He had expected a petty feud, an explosion of fury and rebellion from Angel Dust and a just reaction from what he had assumed was his whirlwind of a family. He had expected Angel Dust to storm off in a rage, resolve broken just enough to lose their bet and go back to the studio where he clearly belonged. He had expected to be satisfied with forcing Angel Dust to come here, pleased with the results. What he had _not_ anticipated was such a one-sided conflict, such a burning hatred from his father than Alastor was starting to believe may be unwarranted. He hadn't expected Angel Dust to look so defeated, clearly terrified of what this man might do to him. He hadn't expected to feel the barest hint of pity and perhaps just a tinge of regret.

Molly looked back at him, offering a warm smile. "Ya comin' in, sugar? No point in standin' out in the yard."

"Oh, yes, of course." Alastor straightened his tie before following them inside. No, no regret. This was going to absolutely be worth it when he tasted sweet, sweet victory.

The interior of the house was just as dejected as the exterior. The wallpaper was peeling off the walls, tinged a dirty yellow from years of cigarette smoke. Someone had clearly been attempting to dust and keep things tidy, and even more clear was their lack of success. The carpet was well worn with traffic ruts ran into it, and the smell was enough to make Alastor's nose burn.

Angel Dust's reasons for leaving were starting to become much more clear. Even Alastor would have chosen prostitution over this mess.

"Go on, now, you two have a seat." Molly gestured to a worn down, musty looking couch. "I made some lemonade, I'll get you both a glass."

"Heh, thanks, Molls." Angel Dust took a seat without hesitation.

Alastor stayed standing, as _he_ had standards. "None for me, my dear, but thank you nonetheless!" He watched as she left the room, fondness creeping into his smile. What a charming young lady, a stark contrast from her father. Speaking of…

He turned his gaze to the hulking mass of a spider, brows arching when he saw the man glaring at Angel Dust. If Alastor had to guess he'd say he had been glaring at the smaller demon from the moment they walked through the door. Angel Dust had clearly noticed, awkwardly looking at anything and everything that wasn't his father. He was normally so vibrant and talkative, it was almost jarring to see him so subdued. Alastor found himself wondering what could have possibly happened between the two to cause such a level of one-sided animosity. What good reason could he possibly have for hating his own son so much? Betrayal, perhaps? Theft? Maybe Angel Dust was the one who killed him, _that_ would certainly make for an awkward relationship.

The silence was apparently too much for Angel Dust to bear, seeing as how it didn't last long. Alastor watched as he rubbed the back of his neck, turning his gaze towards the carpet. "So, uh… you guys still gangsters…?"

"Dunno, you still fuckin' _tempermental_?"

The amount of hatred packed into that one word was enough to astound even Alastor. Ah, that explained it. There _wasn't_ a good reason. He frankly couldn't blame the way Angel Dust shrank back, shame clear in his expression. "Yeah, yeah I'm, uh… I'm definitely still gay."

The tension in the air was nearly palpable. Alastor glanced between the two, at a loss for how to handle this. On one hand, the attitude Angel Dust's fathered displayed was completely uncalled for. On the other, it wasn't exactly Alastor's place to intervene. The silence was shattered by the chiming of a hellphone, and given that it was the clear default sound rather than whatever annoying little jingle Angel Dust had chosen for that week Alastor was going to assume it was Henroin's phone. Sure enough Henroin pulled a small, black hellphone out of his pocket and checked the screen, letting out a soft grunt.

"Seems at least I got _one_ son good for somethin'." He stood, making his way out of the room without even glancing in either of their directions. "I gotta take this."

Alastor watched as he left the room before turning his attention back to Angel Dust. He was clearly _not_ taking this well, letting his expression fall and his shoulders sag the second his father stepped out of the room. Alastor hated to admit it, but he felt the softest pang of what was more than likely guilt. He could think of many reasons to despise Angel Dust but that was _not_ one of them. He never thought he would side with Angel Dust on _anything, _much less feel protective of him for any reason, but right at the moment he felt very much in the mood for tearing the legs off a particularly pesky spider. Alastor's grin darkened at the thought. Oh, what a sight that would be, watching Henroin plead for his life as Alastor twisted his limbs off, one by one. Watching him scream, body contorting in agony as his still-beating heart was pulled from his chest. Maybe with the right recipe spider legs could even be _appetizing_. It would certainly make for an interesting broadcast and, theoretically, if Angel Dust never visited his father he'd never even have to know.

The soft sound of Molly's shuffling footsteps pulled his attention from his dark thoughts and towards the kitchen doorway, just in time to see her utilizing her four arms to carry in four drinking glasses. "Oh, did daddy leave already? Too bad, I fixed him a glass."

Angel Dust brightened the second he noticed her presence, relief washing over his features. He took his glass when she offered it, looking up at her as if she were a prophesized savior come to end his misery. "Thanks, Molls, I'm parched."

"Angie, be honest, you're _always_ thirsty." Judging by her wink and the way Angel Dust snorted, Alastor got the feeling there was a joke there he was missing. Pity, he rather liked jokes.

He looked over when he was offered his own glass, giving a polite but slightly strained smile. Apparently, much like her twin, Molly didn't understand the concept of the word "no". "As I said, my dear, I'll abstain. I'm not much of a fan of lemonade." Or anything sweet, for that matter.

"I know, sugar, that's why I gotch'a water." She gave him a wink and a bright smile. "Can't let a guest go thirsty, what kinda host would that make me?"

Alastor's smile turned genuine as he took the glass offered to him. Now _that_ was something he could respect. "Why thank you, darling, and might I say what a _wonderful_ host you are!"

"Oh, what a charmer!" She placed a glass on the table by her father's recliner before taking a seat next to Angel Dust, using her extra arms to smooth out her skirt. "Angie, you could learn a thing or two from him on how to be a gentleman."

Oh, Alastor definitely had a favorite twin. "Molly, you are simple too kind."

"Yeah, _way_ too kind." Angel Dust crossed his upper set of arms and rolled his eyes. "Don't let him fool ya, he's a grade A _dick_." He took a sip from his glass, smiling a bit despite his sour tone.

Molly cocked a brow. "If he's such a dick then why are ya datin' him?"

Alastor's eyes widened and Angel Dust choked rather violently on his drink. He could only stare as Angel Dust coughed so hard Alastor half expected a lung to come up. The second he was able to take a breath he slammed his glass down, glaring at Molly.

"We aren't dating!" He screeched. "The fuck is wrong with you?!"

Molly just looked between the two, expression one of genuine confusion. "Is that not what this is?"

"No!"

The indignant look on Angel Dust's face would have been enough to offend Alastor, had he been paying attention. His expression may have been calm, but the radio static that filled the room indicated he was anything but. "I believe there's been a misunderstanding. I have no interest in your brother, romantic or otherwise."

"Then what are ya doin' here?" She asked, her brow furrowed.

"Family reconciliation!" Alastor spread his arms with with a grin. "Your twin here is attempting redemption in order to join the _real_ angels that reside in heaven, and although it'll be a fruitless, pitiful attempt, it'll be a noble one in its own right!"

Angel Dust pinched the bridge of his nose. "Honestly, Molly, why the ever lovin' fuck would I _ever_ take a boyfriend to meet pops? Better yet, why would I ever have a boyfriend _at all_? You _know_ Big Vee would make sure they find me in a fuckin' ditch if I ever tried to get tied down."

Alastor's brow furrowed. Now that didn't seem right. He was _sure_ "Big Vee" was Valentino, but Angel Dust and his employer were on such good terms that he must have been mistaken.

"I dunno, I figured ya wanted _me_ ta meet him," Molly pouted. "I mean, ya certainly talk about him enough, what with-"

"MOLLY!" Angel Dust's fur stood on end, both his face and the fluff on his chest turning a soft pink.

"You two have a method of regular communication?" Although Alastor was curious about Angel Dust's reaction, he felt it best not to ask. Knowing him, it was something Alastor would rather not think about.

"Oh, as if we don't sneak out to see each other." Molly gave him a cheeky grin. "I tell daddy all the time that I'm goin' to lunch with Cherri Bomb, if she happens to bring Angie then who am I to stop her?"

Suddenly Angel Dust's temper tantrum when he was told he could no longer see Cherri Bomb made much more sense. "I didn't know you were a friend of hers as well."

"Y'could say that," Molly shrugged. "We weren't 'till Angie had the idea to have her be a messenger. Gotta say though, she's grown on me! You sure know how to pick 'em, Angie."

"You're damn right I do," Angel Dust huffed, arms crossed. "Cherri's the baddest bitch around, as if we _wouldn't_ be besties."

Alastor's ear flicked at the sound of approaching footsteps. "I think it may be best if we change the subject. That is, if you want to keep this little ruse."

The change was instantaneous. Angel Dust propped his feet up on the table, slouching back as Molly shifted back to lean against the arm of the couch. Angel Dust moved his arms as he spoke, picking up in the middle of a story as if he'd been telling it the entire time. "So then I says, 'You gonna finish that word?' I shot 'im before he could, of course."

Molly snorted. "You mean you _accidentally_ shot him. We both know ya got an itchy trigger finger."

"What! I do not, shut up." The indignance in Angel Dust's voice was very convincing, enough so that Henroin hardly even looked up as he re-entered the living room. The most he did was cast a glare in Angel Dust's direction, but at this point that was almost to be expected. Alastor had to admit, he was quite impressed with the cover. This was clearly not the first time the twins had had to pull this little trick, and part of him wondered exactly how often they had to use it to protect themselves.

The answer to that question was probably far too many times for comfort.

"Sure ya do! Do I hafta remind you what happened when you and Arackniss stormed that hideout back in '42?" Molly's smirk was a clear sign that she knew she had pushed a button, and Angel Dust's reaction proved it.

"That was one fuckin' time! And it was like, 80 years ago!"

"Two times, ya just told me ya did it again."

"It was on purpose this time, ya' floozy little-"

"ENOUGH!" All eyes were on Henroin as he slammed his fist on his side table, knocking his glass over. "It's been a hellova lot longer than five minutes, get the fuck outta my house."

Molly pouted, making her eyes wide in a clear attempt at manipulation. "But daddy, we-"

"No, no I gave you five minutes and that's it." He stood with a snarl, glare fixed on Angel Dust. "Get the fuck out or you're gonna be leavin' in _pieces_."

Alastor had never seen Angel Dust look so petrified, his thin body trembling and his back pressed into the back of you couch. He swallowed before scrambling to get up, staying hunched over as if to make himself as small as possible. "Yup, yup no I'm leavin', don't gotta kick up a fuss."

Alastor sat his glass on the table and looked over at Molly. "Thank you for your hospitality, miss Molly. You truly are a wonderful host, I'll have to take advantage of your generosity again some time."

She offered him a small, sad smile. "Take care of my brother and you can come back any time ya like."

Alastor simply nodded before following Angel Dust out of the door, casting a quick, threatening grin towards Henroin. He had learned a lot during this little visit, and he would have to keep all that information in mind when he selected the next victim for his broadcast. In the very least he could send inconveniences Henroin's way, making his time in hell all the more miserable. It was something he would have to consider at a later date. For now he quickened his pace until he was side-by-side with Angel Dust so he could give him a once over.

The visit had definitely taken its toll. Angel Dust walked with his shoulders hunched and head hung. He looked exhausted and miserable, the days events no doubt had brought up some unwanted emotions. This wasn't quite what Alastor had been expecting, and he had to say, he was less than pleased with the results. However, regardless of things going a tad farther than he intended, it got the job done. Angel Dust was emotionally shaken and primed for failure, and he had no doubt found the object Alastor had left in his room. He would go home, he would break his end of the deal, and he would have to leave. Once that happened Alastor would never have to think about how dirty of a trick he had pulled ever again, he would be left in peace without an annoying spider invading his personal space every second he got the chance. Once that happened, this would have all been more than worth it.

The sound of footsteps next to him stopped, and a glance back showed Angel Dust had stopped walking. Alastor furrowed his brow, tilting his head to the side. "Is there a reason you've stopped? We still have quite the walk ahead of us."

"Yeah." Angel Dust reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small pink object that was all too familiar to Alastor. He stared at it a moment before he strode forward, shoving it into Alastor's hand before walking past him. "Ya accidentally left this after you're little raid. Can't have people thinkin' you're not thorough."

Alastor felt his jaw go slack as he watched Angel Dust walk back towards the hotel, the toy weighing in his hand. Had he just given it _back_? Had he just given it back and ruined _everything_? Alastor shook his head, grin stretching wide to hide his inner turmoil before he followed Angel Dust back to the hotel. This was not the plan, he was supposed to break. He was supposed to give in when his will was weakened, to crumble in the face of adversity. He had nothing to lose in this wager, making him give up should have been the simplest of tasks.

Before long they were strolling into the hotel, Charlie eager to greet them at the door.

"You're back!" She exclaimed, looking genuinely excited to see their return. "That was quick, how did it go?"

"I'll tell ya how it went," Angel Dust snapped, not even bothering to pause his long strides. "If I can't get shitfaced, then after that the _least_ I deserve is a god damn nap. I'm going to bed."

Charlie watched as he stormed up the stairs, expression one of concern. Once he was out of sight she turned her attention to Alastor, forcing a small smile. "Okay, I get the feeling it didn't go too well. Maybe we can meet in my office and-"

"Terribly sorry, my dear, but I'm afraid I haven't the time." Alastor too kept walking, not so much as looking up at the princess. "I have quite a bit to work out with the lesson plan, so I am going to retire as well."

Charlie deflated a bit, her tone reflecting as such. "Oh, yeah, okay. We can go over it tomorrow then, I guess."

Alastor didn't respond, instead heading straight for his room. He pulled the door open and stepped inside, letting the door slam shut behind him. The second it did he let the smile fall from his face, replaced with a scowl.

There were certain things Alastor didn't partake in, and cursing was one of them. That simply wasn't the way his mother raised him. Granted, she hadn't raised him to _murder _either, but it was the principle of the thing. Cursing was for the less educated, the less refined. Alastor had _standards_, whether he was on earth or in hell. But there were moments were he would allow himself just a bit of leeway, when things just didn't work out the way he planned and he had to take a second to himself to breathe. Moments where the frustration built up was too much to bear and, although he refused to speak the words aloud, he needed the indulgence.

This was one of those moments.

God fucking damn it.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Plot twist: Alastor was the dumbass the entire time


	7. Chapter 7: January 28, 1947

**Author's Note: **Anyone reading this is not allowed to be mad about what's about to happen. You signed up for this.

* * *

Anthony hated the rain.

He didn't used to. When he was younger the rain was a welcome distraction, a soft pitter patter against his window to lull him to sleep. But for the past twelve years, the rain brought nothing but soaked clothes and cold bones. Homeless shelters weren't known for taking people like _him_, and even if they were he had no doubt he'd get the living shit beaten out of him. His infamy was pretty damn useful when he was trying to score a job, but it only worked against him when he was looking for shelter. If only he weren't so damn good at giving blowjobs.

He looked out over the river, pressing himself further against the concrete bridge he was huddled under and pulling his blanket tight around his shoulders. However he did it, he needed to find shelter fast. Freezing rain was starting to fall, the droplets pelting against the water's surface. Oh to be homeless in January, in the middle of the cold as balls winter. He had spent twelve years trying not to freeze to death during everyone's beloved holidays, the bitter New York cold making his health tank damn near as fast as the drugs did.

Well, maybe not quite that bad. He did do a _lot_ of drugs, after all.

His favorite was new to the scene, an experimental white powder that was even younger than he was. Angel Dust, his dealer had called it. Said it would suit him. Apparently they were gearing up to use it in hospitals as an anesthetic. Anthony had to say, he felt sorry for the poor saps they would give it to. The hallucinations, the paranoia, the disassociation, it hit harder than a brick wall if you weren't expecting it. No, this shit wasn't medicine, it was hell. Lucky for him hell was right where he belonged. Unlucky for him he was on his last dose, and he really didn't want to know how hard the withdraw hit once he ran out. He had decided to save the remainder of his stash, keeping it for an "emergency". That being said, he was half tempted to go ahead and take it. If nothing else it would take the edge off of his current situation.

"Tony?"

Anthony jumped with a start, head snapping to face whoever had spoken and hands flying to the knife tucked in his waistband. He froze when he saw a familiar face, one that had him convinced that maybe his last dose hadn't worn off. She looked almost angelic, the sunset behind her made her dark hair practically glow, bringing out the faint traces of red that hid in her locks. Hazel eyes looked over him with concern and disbelief, perfect cherry lips slightly parted in shock.

Anthony paused for a moment before relaxing, curling back up against the concrete wall. "Well don't you just look perfect as ever. What'cha doin' all the way out here? This is the _bad_ part of town, if pops catches ya you're in deep shit."

Molly frowned and hurried over, crouching beside her twin. "Anthony, what _happened_ to you? Ya look like you're almost _forty_."

Anthony snorted, rolling his eyes a bit. "Gee, thanks, Molls. Ya don't see me for over a decade and _that's_ what you decide to say? Don't I just feel loved."

"I'm sorry, I just…" she trailed off, brushing a lock of brown hair from his face. He couldn't help but lean into the touch a little, the warmth of her hands like a magnet to his ice cold skin. "Shit, Tony, I didn't think I'd find ya like _this_."

"Yeah, stress does that to ya I guess." Anthony knew full well it was much more than stress that had caused him to age so rapidly, but he didn't need to tell Molly that. That wasn't something she needed to worry about. "But, hey, enough about me. How've ya been?"

Molly gave a soft, bitter laugh. Regardless of the less than pleasant undertones, Anthony would be lying if he said that laugh wasn't something he had missed. "Oh, you know, keepin' ta my _woman's work_. Bein' daddy's perfect little angel, keepin' Archie in line, the good stuff."

"Well don't you just have it real tough." Anthony sighed, rubbing his arms in an attempt to bring back any semblance of warmth.

Molly winced a bit at his tone, casting her gaze towards the ground. "Right, sorry... How long have you been out here?"

"Whole time."

"Anthony, 'whole time' is twelve years."

"Yup."

Silence fell over the pair, Anthony's a quiet shame and Molly's shock. He picked at the pebbles at his feet, not wanting to look up and see her reaction. It was bad enough _he_ knew he was a failure, he didn't need to see her face when she found out too.

She was silent for a moment longer before she spoke again, her voice carrying a noticeable tremor. "I found ya because I need to ask something of ya, Tony."

"Oh yeah?" Anthony sighed. Of course she wanted something from him. "And what might that be?"

He felt a hand clasp his shoulder and he looked up, greeted with the sight of his sister's eyes welled up with tears. "Come home, _please_."

Anthony froze, eyes going wide. He only took a moment to recover before he was biting back a bitter laugh. "I don't remember you bein' this much of a kidder, Molls."

"It's not a joke, Tony." Molly's expression was deadly serious. "Please, _please_ come home, I'm sure I can get daddy to see reason."

"Oh _hell_ no, fuck that." He pulled away from her touch, pushing her hand off his shoulder. The contact brought a stinging pain to his fingers that always came with the bitter cold, one that told him he needed to find shelter sooner rather than later less he want to lose some of his appendages. Again. "No fuckin' way I'm goin' within ten miles of that damn house."

"I know things ended bad last time, but can't you just give it a try?" Molly pleaded.

"_Ended bad_?" Anthony snapped, eyes narrowing. "That's a real fuckin' funny way of sayin' they _beat me_. Look, Molls, I know ya mean well, but this just ain't gonna work. I'm still a fuckin' swish, he's still a fuckin' bigot, and it's gonna end the exact same way."

"Ya don't know that," Molly insisted. "Daddy's been talkin' about ya, Tony, Archie too. They _miss_ ya, I'm sure of it. Can't we just _try_? I don't wanna do this without ya anymore."

"Well you're just gonna haf'ta get over it then, because I ain't goin' back," Anthony huffed.

Molly paused, presumably considering her options. Oh, he was in for it now. There was one thing Molly was damn good at, and that was manipulation. Even when he knew it was coming he always fell for it, hook line and sinker. Well not this time. A lot had changed in the past decade, _he_ had changed. He wasn't the same vulnerable kid he was before, he could easily take whatever she could dish out and then some. She wasn't going to get him, not today.

"What if I could guarantee ya a bed for the night? Somewhere warm?"

Oh fuck it all, she already had him.

Anthony hesitated, wringing his now numb fingers. After a moment he sighed, shoulders hunched in defeat. "Yeah, fuck, okay, I'm listening."

He was almost envious of the relieved smile that graced her lips. "It won't be at the house, you won't have to stay there if things don't work out. It'll be with a friend, someone who doesn't know ya. You'll be safe and warm, and I'll make sure they feed ya. How's that sound?"

_Food_. Now that was something he had gone far too long without. When was the last time he had eaten, yesterday afternoon? It hadn't been much, either, just enough to get by. The thought of something warm in his stomach, of lying down somewhere soft and safe, it was enough to make him dizzy.

He looked up at her, daring to let hope flood his features. "You promise?"

She offered a soft, loving smile. "Of course I promise, Tony. I'll get it all set up, don't you worry."

Anthony considered a moment before nodding, pulling himself up on shaky legs. "Okay, okay yeah, I can do that."

Molly grinned and pulled him into a tight hug. "Thank you, Tony, you won't regret this, I promise!"

Anthony gave a soft grunt of pain before snorting at his sister's words. "Yeah, yeah okay, we'll see about that. Now how's about you let me go, huh? You're gonna squish my lungs. Can't go reconcile with pops if I'm dead."

"Heh, you have a point there," Molly said as she released him. Anthony watched as his sister's eyes trailed over his too this frame, a frown turning the corners of her lips. He pulled his blanket tighter around himself as if that would do something to keep her gaze away. Her brows furrowed as a realization hit her. "Tony, do you not have a coat?"

Anthony rolled his eyes. "If I had a coat, I wouldn't need the damn blanket."

"I just thought you were tryin' ta get an extra layer." It was clear Molly was only now seeing the full gravity of his situation, and he couldn't say he liked the way she was looking at him all that much. "Jesus, Tony, no wonder you're so cold. Let's get you home, okay? I'll make ya a coffee or somethin'."

"Make me an offer I can't refuse, why dontcha?" He couldn't help the faint smile that played on his lips. Fuck he had missed having her around. No one could cheer him up like she could, sometimes he swore she really was an angel.

"I'm tryin' to," she teased. "Come on, we should get goin'. Don't wanna be stuck out here in the dark."

She started towards home, Anthony nodding in agreement before silently following. It was further than he'd have liked, and he was trembling by the end of the trek, but before long they were stepping up onto the small porch of his childhood home. It was almost jarring how the place had stayed the same. Same shabby siding, same old car in the drive, same shitty ass lawn. As much as he hated it, it brought a painful twinge of nostalgia. Molly gave him a small, encouraging smile before she opened the front door, gesturing for him to go through.

Well, this was it.

He took a moment to steele himself before stepping through the doorway. A quick glance around told him that not even the interior had changed, save for the carpet being more worn down and the wallpaper taking on a faded look. The mouth watering smell of garlic and red sauce told him dinner was on, just like old times.

God, he was actually home.

Molly stepped in after him, a tad more anxious than she had been earlier. He tried not to read too much into that.

"Daddy, I'm home!" She called as she hung her coat by the door. She took Anthony's blanket to hang it as well, and for a moment he wished he had something nicer to wear than the oversized, raggedy clothes practically hanging off of him. Talk about a bad impression.

"And just where the fuck have you been?"

Unfortunately, the house wasn't the only thing that had stayed the same through the passing years. That voice hadn't changed, either. At the sound of it Anthony went rigid. Suddenly he was 14 years old again, trembling at that thundering tone and terrified of the beating that was sure to follow.

Shit. This had been a bad idea.

"I told ya, daddy, I was out seein' a friend." Molly took Anthony's hand, lacing their fingers together with a reassuring smile. It was a habit from when they were little, something to remind him that they were safe as long as they were together. He took a deep breath before nodding, letting her know he was ready. "I brought a guest for dinner, hope ya don't mind."

"Damn it, Molly, what have I told ya about bringin' people over without warning?" Anthony couldn't help but notice that Molly didn't flinch at the harsh tone the same way he did. "Kids, they never fuckin' learn. Lemme get a look at who ya brought. Guess we can set another plate at the table this time, but it ain't happenin' again."

He heard one of the dining room chairs scrape against the floor. No doubt his pops had been sitting at the table, planning the gang's next move in their ongoing turf war with the Irish. The heavy thud of boots coming their way brought up a swell of panic that he had to force down. He just had to play nice and everything would be fine. This would only go south if he let it. Anthony watched as his father stepped into the room, heart pounding in his chest. This was it, no turning back now. Henry froze the second he saw his son, eyes wide with shock.

Anthony gave a half hearted wave and a shaky smile. "Heya there, pops, long time no see."

"Long time no-" Henry cut himself off, eyes narrowing. He turned to glare at Molly. "The fuck is this? Why is _he_ here?"

"I wanted to see him," she said simply, her voice holding a confidence that Anthony envied. She gave his hand a soft squeeze as she spoke. "It's been _twelve years_, daddy. Can't he just stay for dinner?"

Henry had a soft spot for Molly and it showed. He glanced between the twins, considering his options. After a moment he sighed. "Ya make me choose between tellin' you no and lettin' this damn queer inta my house?" He waved his hand in dismissal, turning to walk back down into the dining room. "He eats and then he leaves. That's all you're gettin'."

Molly turned to Anthony, a triumphant grin spread across her face. "See! I told you it'd be fine."

"Yeah, if that's what you wanna call what just happened." Anthony shifted as he watched his father retreat back to the dining room, doing his best to control his breathing. "Look, Molls, I'm not so sure this was a good idea. That wasn't exactly a warm welcome, an' he _clearly_ don't want me here."

"I'll get him ta soften up, just you watch." She patted his hand before letting go and walking towards the kitchen. "I'm gonna go check on dinner, you just have a seat at the table. I'll take care of everything."

She left before he could protest, leaving him standing in the middle of the living room at a loss. He couldn't explain it, but he had a real bad feeling about this. Something in the back of his mind told him he should go now, before things got hairy, but if he left he wouldn't get the food and shelter he had been promised. He considered a moment, glancing between the kitchen and the dining room.

Well, fuck. He didn't really have a whole lot of options.

He let out a soft sigh before making his way to the dining room, hesitating before taking a seat as far from his father as he could possibly get. He couldn't start shit if he just sat there quietly, and that's exactly what he planned on doing. All he had to do was survive dinner and get out, simple as that. He could behave for, what, half an hour? An hour tops? This was going to be a cakewalk.

An awkward, awkward cakewalk.

Anthony rocked in his chair for a moment, fingers fidgeting with the small tears in his pants. Why did this have to be so uncomfortable? He could sit in silence. This shouldn't be a problem. He was sure his dad wasn't just silently judging him as he sat there, going over the map of the Irish territory. And even if he was, who cared? Not Anthony, no sir. He had gotten plenty of judgement from clients over the past decade and it never bothered him one bit, so why should this? There was no reason for this to get under his skin, that bastard wasn't special. Just another mob lackie with delusions of grandeur, really he had no room to judge _anyone_ for making poor life choices, least of all his own son. He could be an ass all day long, Anthony definitely did not feel the urge to try and win him over. He didn't _need_ to.

"...so, uh, how've ya been, pops?" He winced even as the words came out of his mouth, internally berating himself. Why had he just said that? The silence was fine, he didn't need to make chit chat.

Henry stopped his muttering, turning a hate filled glare towards Anthony that made him shrink back. "Are ya fuckin' blind? I'm _busy_, boy."

Anthony looked to the side, desperate to escape his father's gaze. "Right, yeah, sorry." He hesitated before speaking again, and he hated himself for every word. "That's the Irish territory, yeah? I was just there yesterday."

Now that caught his attention. Henry froze, staring at Anthony for an uncomfortably long time before speaking. "Why were you with the _Irish_?"

Anthony's eyes widened as he realized his mistake. He waved his arms a bit, speaking quickly. "I wasn't helpin' them out or nothin', I swear! They just…" he trailed off, looking down as he mumbled, "...they just pay well is all."

"Oh, so now you're whorin' out for the Taigs and Prods?" Henry sneered. He shook his head and turned his attention back to his map. "I don't know what the hell I expected. You're just as worthless as ya were when ya left."

Anthony felt fury spark in his gut. Talk about uncalled for. "Oh yeah, well this 'worthless' kid o'yours has seen _their_ map and knows what their next move is gonna be."

Henry stopped, eyes trailing back to his son. "Is that so? Are ya gonna _share_ that information?"

Anthony snorted, too caught up in his own indignance to remember to watch his mouth. "Fat chance. I'm not losin' my best clients, no way in hell."

Henry stood, leaning forward and placing both hands on the table. His tone was low and dangerous. "Didn't figure ya for a _traitor_, boy. Ya wanna take a second ta rethink that stance of yours?"

"Oh, you think _I'm_ a traitor?" Anthony smirked up at him. "What about that buddy of yours, Giavanni? Doesn't he owe ya some cash? 'Cause he paid me _plenty_ last week, best lay I've had in _ages_."

And with that, Henry snapped. Anthony didn't have time to register what was happening until he was already staring down the barrel of Henry's pistol, his father's eyes cold and merciless. "Ya wanna run that one by me again?"

Anthony froze, instinctively putting his hands up. He stared up at Henry with wide, terrified eyes. "Whoa, whoa hey! N-Now pops, come on, this really ain't necessary…"

"I _ain't_ your pops," Henry snarled as he cocked the hammer back. "You haven't been a part of this family for a long fuckin' time, and if ya don't spill whatcha got you're gonna be dead 'fore you got the chance ta try again. Now I'm gonna ask ya one more time, _what are they planning?_"

"What are you two yellin' about in there?" Anthony glanced towards the kitchen doorway at the sound of Molly's voice, praying to God and anyone else listening that she could fix this. He watched her step into the dining room with a tray of lasagna in her hands, brows furrowed. "I leave for five minutes an- _Jesus!_" The lasagna was on the floor in an instant, the crash making Anthony jump. "Anthony, what did you do?!"

"Me?!" Anthony shrieked. "I ain't the one with the gun, Molls!"

"He betrayed the family," Henry said, his voice far to calm for the situation at hand. "And I'm sure as hell not gonna give him the chance ta do it again."

"Daddy, put the gun down, _please_," Molly pleaded. She put a hand on his arm, her words desperate. "Please, I'm sure he can make it right, let's just hear what he's gotta say."

"Oh I'm done listenin'." Henry glanced at Molly before turning his attention back to Anthony. "Molly, leave the room. Ya don't need ta see this."

Anthony felt fear spread through him like ice in his core. Holy shit, his dad was serious. He was going to die here.

"I'm not leavin'!" Molly tugged on his arm in an attempt to move the gun away. "Daddy, we don't gotta do this, I'll make him leave, I _promise_ just put it down."

Henry tensed, pulling his arm away from her. "Molly! Let go or so help me-"

He was cut off by the sound of gunfire and an ear-splitting scream.


	8. Chapter 8: In His Final Moments

**Author's Note: **Death/overdose trigger warning for this chapter! It's just a tad graphic

* * *

It was well into the evening and no one had heard so much as a peep from Angel Dust. Alastor wasn't terribly worried, he _had _said he was going to take a nap after all, but Charlie was growing more agitated by the minute. It was made even more apparent that he had no plans to come back downstairs when dinner came and went without the spider demon so much as making an appearance. This was concerning, to say the least. It was bad enough Angel Dust had rejected his one chance to break his end of the bargain, which infuriated Alastor to no end, but now he saw fit to sleep through the trauma Alastor had so expertly crafted for him? It was _rude_ is what it was. Granted, said trauma had gone a tad farther than Alastor had intended, but he had long since decided that was far from his problem. It was all a means to an end, and that end was getting Angel Dust as far away from him as physically possible.

Any guilt Alastor may have felt over the incident was completely irrelevant.

The clatter of silverware against a plate and a chair scraping against the hotel's wooden floors brought his attention to Charlie. She was now standing with both hands on the table, eyes trained on the doorway to the lobby and expression determined.

"I'm going to go check on him," she said as she straightened her posture. "He's been up there for way too long, it can't hurt just to peek in."

Oh. Oh no. Charlie comforting Angel Dust was something he absolutely could not have, all of his progress would be ruined. Alastor stood abruptly, summoning his microphone to his hands with a flourish and widening his grin. "No need, my dear, no need at all!" He beckoned with his finger, pulling her chair forward. It hit the back of her knees and she fell back into it with a surprised squeal. "He is _my_ responsibility after all, I am more than capable of checking on him."

It was Vaggie's turn to stand, anger obvious in her features. No doubt she perceived Alastor forcing Charlie to sit as a threat. "And just how the hell do we know you'll actually _do_ your job, huh? We _all_ know you hate him, I'm not buying this whole helping him out act."

Oh, well then. It would seem as if she was actually on to something. How inconvenient.

"Oh don't you worry your pretty little head!" Alastor winked at her. "In fact, I'm going to go check on him right now! You're welcome to watch, if you'd like."

"That won't be necessary," Charlie said, giving Vaggie a look. "I know you're doing your best, Alastor, and I trust you with this."

Vaggie hesitated for a moment before she sighed and sat back down, grumbling softly to herself. Luckily for Alastor, no matter how much she may disagree with Charlie's optimism, she was oh so compliant for her partner. Alastor shot her a cheeky smile before grinning at Charlie.

"Why thank you, Charlie, your trust is much appreciated! Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a ward to check up on." With that he twirled towards the doorway and walked out, letting his coat flourish behind him. If there was one thing Alastor loved it was a dramatic exit. Now, to focus on the task at hand.

If Alastor was honest, he would have much rathered _not_ going up to see Angel Dust. While normally there would be no harm in poking his head in to just give the room a once over, he was very much aware of the possibility that Angel Dust may prefer to sleep in the nude. That was _not_ something Alastor ever needed to see again, those film covers had shown him more of Angel Dust that he was willing to handle in a lifetime. However, regardless of his feelings on the matter, it was probably best he at least check on him. If nothing else maybe he could present a second opportunity for Angel Dust to fail. That would certainly help lift his mood.

As he approached the Angel Dust's door he stopped, nose twitching. Hm, that was odd. A sickly sweet scent filled the air, one of rancidity and burning sugar. Alastor wasn't sure why but that scent put him on edge, activating a primal fight or flight response that made anxiety gnaw at his stomach. It was not at all a feeling he appreciated. As much as it made him want to turn away and leave as quickly as possible, he couldn't help his curiosity. What in the world could that smell be coming from? He took a deep breath, through his mouth of course, before placing his hand on the door handle and turning it. Whatever it was, he would find out soon enough.

-xxx-

Anthony had never been in so much pain.

His thoughts raced as he stumbled over the pavement, left arm hanging limp at his side. The bullet wound in his shoulder was bleeding profusely, and his inability to move it or the fingers on his left hand was less than comforting. Why the fuck had he thought this was a good idea? Why had he ever gone into that house? Why did he open his big mouth about the Irish? Why did he think he could trust Molly when she hadn't been to see him in years? This had all been a mistake, a horrible, _horrible_ mistake, and he was left with nothing but pain and regret.

The fact that Anthony was pretty sure he was bleeding out was not at all helping.

He didn't even want to look at the wound in his shoulder, he didn't want to see how bad it really was. With the immense pain he was in, he was sure the bullet had gone right through the bone. Honestly he was surprised he was able to move as well as he had, he barely had time to register the pain before he was already making his way out of the nearest window. He hadn't stopped to see if Molly would help him, he didn't want to risk getting shot a second time. He had learned the hard way a long time ago that what didn't kill you normally succeeded in a second attempt.

It occurred to him that he was running, but he had no idea where he was running _to_. In his panic to get out of the house he hadn't even stopped to think about it. Where _could_ he go? He had just blown his last chance at finding shelter, and this freezing rain really wasn't going to do him any favors if he was losing blood. He couldn't go to a hospital, they called the cops if there was even a hint that there had been gunfire. Anthony was painfully aware of the warrants he had out for his arrest, and he wouldn't last longer than half an hour in a cell. Being a hooker made him an easy target, being a male hooker even more so, and being a homosexual male hooker practically signed his death warrent. Problem was, if he couldn't get to a hospital then he couldn't get patched up, which gave him the options of freezing to death or death by blood loss. Neither of those were all that appealing. He may not have exactly been living, but that didn't mean he was ready to die at the ripe old age of 26. That didn't mean he was willing to give up hope of things getting better, of him finding warmth and happiness somewhere along the line. That hope had been the only thing keeping him going, he couldn't have believed in it just for him to die like this. Alone, huddled under a bridge with nothing but the pebbles under his feet for company.

He was hit with a new surge of strength as an idea hit him. The bridge! It may not be warm, but it would provide cover. He could try to start a fire, he had some matches and paper in his pockets. It was further away than he would have liked, but he was pretty sure it was doable. He could hole up there and then, once he had a chance to sit down and think, he could figure out what to do about the bleeding. He could make it through this.

Luckily for him he had already been blindly running in the general direction of the bridge, so he didn't need to do much in terms of course adjustment. With this in mind Anthony stumbled towards the his goal, desperate for shelter. The sooner he got there the better, especially considering he was more than likely leaving one hell of a blood trail. The last thing he needed was for his father to find it and decide to finish him off. He was determined to make it through this no matter what.

His disposition brightened when he spotted the familiar slope of the river bank. There was his hope for warmth and safety, all within sight. He quickened his strides, eyes focused on the goal ahead. He just had to get down the slope and under the bridge. Simple as that. He had made it this far, a few steps more would be a cakewalk.

At least, it would have been, had he been watching where he was going.

The top of the slope took him by surprise, falling away far more quickly than he had anticipated. Worn soles skidded across slick grass, throwing him down the hill before he could even register what had happened. Pain exploded in his shoulder as it slammed into the ground, a sickening crunch filling his ears. He only had a moment to cry out in agony before the icy cold water of the river hit him like a brick wall, tearing the breath from his lungs. His vision went white as panic coursed through him. Fuck, this wasn't good. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't see, and he was sure that if he didn't get out of the water soon he wouldn't be able to stay conscious long enough to ever leave it again.

After a moment of desperate flailing he felt the rough, rocky river bottom under his good hand. With his last ounce of strength he shoved himself up. Immediately taking in a desperate gulp of air. Fuck, _fuck_ that was cold. He didn't give himself time to dwell on that, instead forcing his now numb feet to find purchase beneath the current that threatened to sweep him under once again. He'd be damned if he was going to give it the chance. He scrambled onto the riverbank, dragging his oh so noncompliant body under the bridge.

He was soaked, he was freezing cold, he was bleeding out, and he was barely conscious, but damn it he was alive and God could suck his dick because he sure as hell planned on keeping it that way.

Or maybe not. Now that he was out of the river the pain in his shoulder had returned with a vengeance. He may not be dead yet, but it was bad enough he almost wished he had been. Between his shoulder, his numb extremities, and the shock he was no doubt in by now, it was all far too much for him to handle. A quick glance at his injury to assess didn't help his dwindling resolve, the sight of blood and exposed bone fragments making his stomach lurch. How the hell was he supposed to get out of this? How had he ever thought he could take care of this on his own? He couldn't patch up a wound like this, and even if he could he didn't have anything to patch it up _with_. He didn't even have his blanket to wrap it with, that was still hanging by the door of that damned house. All he had on him was three pennies, a small switchblade, some now soaked paper and matches, and one last dose of Angel Dust. Nothing to help him through this.

Wait.

He had drugs. He had _drugs_, and that drug was Angel Dust of all things. Sweet, pain relieving, experimental anesthetic Angel Dust. Holy shit, he was saved. He might actually survive this cluster fuck. He patted down his pockets before fishing into one, fumbling for the little pink tin that held his salvation.

"Please, God, _please_ don't let it be ruined, please let it be dry." He pulled the tin out and opened it, relief washing over him when he saw that the contents were unharmed. Thank fuck, for once luck was on his side. He didn't waste any time shoving his face into the tin and inhaling. Never before had he been so grateful for the burn in his nose, never before had it made him feel more alive.

Now he just had to wait for it to peak.

-xxx-

It was confirmed, the stench was definitely coming from Angel Dust's room. It hit Alastor as soon as he opened the door, making him instinctively cover his nose. It was so strong it made his smile faulter and his ears lie back, a display he would ordinarily be reluctant to provide even in private. The room looked ordinary as ever, nothing out of place as far as he could tell save for Angel Dust's pet bacon missing. A soft whimper from under the bed cleared that mystery up quick enough, but the one of the rancid smell remained. Alastor's eyes were drawn to the top of the bed, greeted with the sight of a sleeping Angel Dust. He was not nude as Alastor had feared, thank the nine circles, but instead wore a baggy pair of pink sweats that sat low on his waist. He had neglected to put on a shirt, but this was something Alastor could live with. Alastor hesitated a moment before moving towards the bed, and it was with this that the source of the smell became apparent. With each step towards Angel Dust's sleeping figure it became worse. By the time Alastor stopped by the edge of the bed it was nearly unbearable, making his eyes water and barely suppressed panic well up in his throat.

How odd. The panic was a natural instinct rather than something Alastor was actually feeling, and he certainly did not appreciate it. Now that he had discovered the source of the scent, the question in mind was _why_? What could possibly be causing the harlot to emit such a foul odor, and why did it feel like a warning? A quick glance told Alastor the sleep Angel Dust was in was certainly not peaceful. If anything he looked miserable, terrified even. His body was tense, squirming as if he were having a nightmare. Well, squirming wasn't exactly the right word. It was more as if he were _attempting_ to move but was otherwise restrained. What was more, the pink decorating his soft white fur appeared to have liquid beading from the strands. A large pink splotch on his shoulder was particularly active, the liquid oozing from his fur much thicker in that area.

Hm, how curious.

Alastor hesitated a moment before picking his microphone off the ground, using the end to gently prod at his shoulder. He made a face when it came away covered in foul smelling ooze. How disgusting, but certainly worth investigating. He lowered the end to Angel Dust's shoulder once again, using it to part the fur there. It would appear as it the ooze was coming directly from the fur rather than the skin itself. A defense mechanism for distress, perhaps?

A groan made him jolt, drawing his eyes to Angel Dust's face. His brows were furrowed and his face contorted into a frown. It would seem as if the distress was a good theory to bank on for now. With that in mind it didn't surprise Alastor one bit when Angel Dust cried out in his sleep.

It did, however, surprise someone else.

Alastor gave a startled help when he felt something hit his feet, knocking him off balance. Fat Nuggetz had darted out from under the bed and out of the room with a squeal, Alastor's foot placement be damned. Alastor flailed for a moment to catch himself before resorting to putting his weight onto the microphone, jabbing the end directly into the spot on Angel Dust's shoulder. Pink eyes snapped open with a pained shriek before the room erupted into total chaos.

-xxx-

Something wasn't right.

Anthony may not have been taking Angel Dust for very long, but he was familiar enough with how it made you feel by now. It made you feel invincible, like you could do anything, but right now he just felt like it was very hard to breathe. Like his head was fogging and he wasn't completely in control of his movements.

Why did he feel like this? Sure the dose he took was a little bigger than usual, but that shouldn't take things this far. Maybe the shock had something to do with it, maybe mixing the two wasn't the best idea, but Anthony had a feeling that wasn't it. What was he missing? And then it hit him.

It was the blood loss. He had forgot to account for the blood loss.

He had overdosed.

His eyes went wide with the realization and he felt himself begin to panic. No, no no no not an overdose. He heard horror stories about those, saw the aftermath in far too many of his fellow men of the night, found the days old bodies tucked into various nooks of the city. In his condition he knew what that meant.

It meant he had fucked up. It meant he was going to die.

He ran a shaky hand through his hair in an attempt to force himself to focus. Fuck, how could he fix this? He had just made everything worse, just like everything else in his life, and if he had to guess he didn't have much time left to figure things out. The more he thought it over, the more he realized he had only one option. His only chance at surviving this was the hospital, whether it put him in a jail cell or not. He'd rather be in a cell than dead.

He forced himself to stand on shaky legs, stumbling a bit when his world tilted. Oh, no wait, the world wasn't tilting, he was. This became apparent when he felt himself hit the ground, pain shooting through his shoulder once again. This time, however, he was less concerned with that and more concerned with his inability to breathe. He felt his body seize, his limbs tensing of their own accord without him having any semblance of control. He tried once again to take a breath but found the task to be impossible. It was as if something was squeezing the life out of him, an invisible weight on his chest that proved unrelenting. Tears brimmed in his eyes as the edges of his vision began to haze. He didn't want to go, not like this. Not this young. Not this alone. How long would it be before anyone found his body? Would his family even claim him? Or would he end up nameless in a morgue, hidden away in a drawer on a cold, metal slab? Who would miss him? Would his absence even _matter_?

As his world went dark he felt the urge to sleep overtake him. Or, at least, it felt like sleep. It was that feeling of fighting it just before you nod off, except he knew that if he slept now there would be no waking up. He was scared, God he was so scared. What he would have given to stay awake just a little longer, to call out, _anything_ to keep himself from slipping away, but some things just couldn't be helped. It was there, alone on the cold night of January 28, 1947, that Anthony Giuliani drew his last breath.

Until a sharp jab at his shoulder awoke him from his sleep.

-xxx-

Nothing could have possibly prepared Alastor for the fresh hell he had unwittingly unleashed. Angel Dust screamed in pain before his eyes snapped open, wild with panic and pupils dilated. Before Alastor could even think to react he felt razor sharp teeth sink into his arm, tearing through his skin as easily as tissue paper. Alastor shrieked, more in surprise than pain, before smacking Angel Dust's head with his microphone. Luckily this was enough to startle Angel Dust into letting go, giving Alastor the chance to stumble back. A quick glance at the wound showed blood black as tar oozing from the bite, along with a transparent pink liquid.

Well. That wasn't a good sign at all.

Alastor looked up at Angel Dust, met with a hard glare and a snarl. "Get the fuck out of my room!"

Indignance filled him, straightening his posture. He shot the spider demon a glare, tightening his grin. "I simply came to check on you, at Charlie's request, and I hardly think it's appropriate to _bite_ m- WHOA!"

Alastor ducked, barely in time to avoid the pink lamped hurled at his head. He heard it shatter against the wall behind him.

"I said _get out_, Alastor!" This time a pillow hit him square on his side, thrown with enough force to knock a soft grunt out of him. "Get out, get out, _get the fuck out!_"

A strange haze began to fill Alastor's head. He straightened himself once again, brushing off his coat. It was then he noticed that the same pink liquid in his wound also dripped from Angel Dust's fangs. Well, that explained it. It made sense, but it would have been nice to know ahead of time that his ward was venomous. "Angel Dust, you need to _calm down_, I only-"

He was cut off when Angel Dust lifted the entirety of his nightstand and threw it against the wall with a scream so loud Alastor was honestly shocked the mirror didn't shatter. While the mirror was in tact, both the wall and the nightstand certainly were not. With Angel Dust throwing the tantrum to end all tantrums and the venom beginning to course through his veins like fire, he was starting to think maybe following the pig's lead and leaving was the best choice.

"On second thought, why don't I leave you to it." Alastor wasted no time making his way to the door, paying no mind to the crashing and screaming behind him. Once he was out he pulled the door shut and, after a moment, locked it. There was no need to allow such mayhem to tear its way through the rest of the hotel, especially given the fact that Alastor's wound was beginning to throb. The last thing he needed was to let others see him injured while also dealing with whatever crazed state had taken over the hotel's star patron.

"Alastor! What happened, are you okay?"

Oh, damn it.

Alastor whipped around, met with the sight of his fellow hotel residents trying to peer at the door behind him. Charlie led them, of course, no doubt the screaming had brought them all up. He quickly tucked his arms behind his back.

"Nothing to worry about, my dear! Just a slight hiccup is all, nothing I can't sort out myself." He was painfully aware of how strained his smile was, but he couldn't help it. The bite on his arm _hurt_.

A loud crash followed by a scream that rattled the doorway made him wince. Well that certainly wasn't helping his case.

"Ya sure about that?" Even Husker looked somewhat concerned. That was unexpected to say the least. "'Cause it sounds like he's havin' a fuckin' meltdown in there."

"Yes, I'm sure." Alastor hoped his glare got the message across. "A side effect of the withdrawl, no doubt. He'll have to stop eventually, and once it's out of his system we can resume as planned." Truth be told he had no idea what could be causing this. It had taken Alastor completely off guard, and that was something he did not appreciate.

"Are you sure?" Charlie chewed her lip anxiously, eying the door. "Maybe I should go in there and talk to him, just to see."

Alastor was just about to protest, but it would seem as if he didn't have to.

"What?! Charlie, no, _no._" Vaggie stepped between Charlie and the door, putting her arms up. "You are _not_ going in there."

For once, Alastor and Vaggie were on the same side. Something he was grateful for, he wasn't sure what excuse he could have used to keep Charlie out of the room.

Charlie crossed her arms and shot her girlfriend a look. "Vaggie, I can't just leave him like that."

"No, but you _can_ wait until he calms down." Vaggie's expression softened and she stepped forward, placing her hands on Charlie's shoulders. "Look, I know this is important to you, but I really think it's best if we wait him out. If you go in there when he's out of control like this he might try to hurt you, and if you try to defend yourself _you_ might hurt _him_. So, let's just wait until he calms down, okay?"

Charlie stared at Vaggie for a moment before she sighed, hanging her head a bit. "Yeah, okay, I guess you have a point. We can check on him later."

Vaggie offered a soft smile. "Atta girl. Now," she took Charlie's hand and turned her around, leading her off down the hall, "let's go relax for a little bit, yeah? We can make some dessert for him or something."

Alastor watched the girls disappear around the corner, waiting until the sound on the voices faded before turning his attention to the one demon remaining before him. Husker was eying the door with a thoughtful expression, his arms crossed.

Alastor tilted his head. "Penny for your thoughts?"

Husker glanced at him and snorted, wings shifting a bit. "They'll cost ya a helluva lot more than that. But," he looked back towards the door, "I've heard that before, and you got one hell of a problem on your hands. What did ya _do_ ta the kid?"

"And why do you assume that this is _my_ doing?" Alastor said, rolling his eyes.

Husker gave him an annoyed look. "'Cause PTSD meltdowns like that don't start themselves."

Alastor blinked, pausing on that for a moment before scoffing. "That is _not_ what this is."

"Oh yeah?" Husker's tail flicked, a clear sign of his irritation. "I'm not buyin' it. Whad'ja do, smiles?"

"I simply took him to see his family, that's all." Alastor waved him off. "I'll admit, the point _was_ to induce stress, but I hardly think it caused all _this_."

Husker raised a brow. "His family? Didn't they kill him or some shit?"

Alastor froze. "...pardon?"

"Charlie was talkin' about it at the bar the other day," Husker said. "Her and her damn virgin drinks. Said somethin' about his dad shooting him or stabbing him or whatever. Went on about how she wished things could be better between them, but if ya ask me any family that kills ya ain't worth shit."

"I was… _unaware_ of that aspect of their relationship," Alastor grumbled.

"Yeah, sure ya were. Look," Husker gestured towards the door. "Whatever you're doing here? I don't care. I don't give a fuck about you, him, or this whole damn hotel, but I will say one things. Bringin' up flashbacks like that, that's a _dick move_."

"Do you honestly think I _care_?" Alastor said, borderlining a snap. He was _not_ in the mood for this.

Husker watched him a moment, considering his words before he finally spoke. "No, no I don't." He turned and walked away, waving his hand a bit as he did. "Let me know when he calms down, I'll bring that sugar coffee he likes or whatever."

Alastor only watched as he left, smile tight lipped and ear flicking. Once Husker was gone, he allowed himself the briefest of moments to take a deep breath and clear his mind. The first task at hand was changing his now blood-splattered clothes and bandaging his wound. The second was leaving the key to Angel Dust's room at the bar so someone that _wasn't_ him could deal with the aftermath. The third was taking a much needed rest, hopefully one that would allow him to sleep off the venom clouding his mind.

As he stumbled off down the hallway, doing his best to stay upright, he couldn't help but think of Huskers words, of the sight he had just witnessed. Angel Dust, forgoing any and all illusions of the perfect porn star to flash his true colors. Angel Dust, losing control of himself in a flurry of violence and pain. Alastor would be lying if he said the notion wasn't intriguing to him in its own right, one he would possibly have an interest in exploring once things calmed down. Who knew what other sides of himself Angel Dust had been hiding away? What other experiences had he kept a tight lid on? It was certainly something to keep in mind for later. For now, however, the only thing on Alastor's mind was sleep. He could deal with all of that in the morning.


	9. Chapter 9: Aftermath

Angel Dust lied limp in a nest of shredded blankets and pillows, eyes idly following passing demons as they moved outside his window. He had come down some time ago, though he couldn't say exactly when. Time felt almost distorted in his aftermath, far too much so for him to even attempt to keep track of it. His door had been locked last time he checked so that was out, and his cell phone was among the wreckage, a casualty of his outburst just like everything else he owned. So, rather than seek out a method for obtaining the time, he had resorted to curling up in a mess of destroyed bedding and watching life outside move on without him. One thing was for sure, he had definitely been up all night. His eyes burned from lack of sleep, almost as much as his muscles did from over exerting himself.

Fuck, he hated everything right now. He hated his dad for hurting him, he hated Molly for letting him get hurt, he hated this hotel for keeping him locked up, he hated Valentino for forcing him to seek out the hotel as a safe haven, he hated Charlie and her endless optimism, he hated Vaggie and the stick up her ass, he hated Husker and his couldn't-care-less attitude, he hated Niffty always moving his shit, and he hated Alastor for tormenting him like some kind of damn sadist. But, more than anything, Angel Dust hated _himself._ He hated himself because he knew, deep down, he could have avoided this. He could have been something other than some dime-a-dozen whore on the streets of New York. He could have been more than Valentino's personal plaything. He could have been more than the sad, pathetic mess lying limp in his bed right now. But, instead, he had chosen _this_ of all things. Honestly, the way he saw it, just for that he deserved every ounce of suffering he got. He was even starting to wonder if taking shelter during the extermination had been the best idea. The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that even a place like Hell was better off without him.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a key in the lock of his door, followed by creak of the hinges. More than likely Alastor here to berate him or taunt him or some shit. Well the joke was on him. Angel Dust didn't have a single ounce of fucks left to give, so Alastor sure as hell wasn't getting a reaction. He was content to just ignore the other demon until he got bored and left.

"Your bed always in the middle of the room?"

Much to Angel Dust's surprise that voice belonged to Husker, _not_ Alastor. He glanced at the other demon from the corner of his eye the second he was within view, taking in the steaming mug and bottle of pills resting in his claws.

"Shops closed, Husky baby," Angel Dust grumbled. He turned on his side, pulling the shredded remains of his favorite blanket over himself. "Come back some other time, I ain't in the mood to service."

"That's not why I'm here and you damn well know it," Husker huffed. Angel Dust felt him take a seat next to the mound of fluff. "Look, I just thought you could use some coffee and painkillers, but if you're gonna be a dick then I'll just take it back."

Angel Dust gave a soft snort. "Yeah, thanks and all, but I doubt I'd like your bitter ass coffee."

"I loaded it with enough sugar ta give an elephant a heart attack, now drink it."

Angel Dust squawked in surprise as the mug was shoved in his face. He grumbled before taking it gingerly, letting the warmth radiate through his fingers and shifting back onto his stomach. "Fine, I'll drink it, but I don't need the pain killers."

"Bullshit," Husker snorted. "You're tellin' me after a freakout like that ya didn't hurt yourself? I ain't buyin' it. Take your damn pills."

Angel Dust hesitated for a moment before he sighed, shuffling a bit to bury himself further into his bedding. He wasn't sure if painkillers were enough to break his end of the deal, but he wasn't exactly in a position where he could risk it. "Can't."

"Can't?" Husker raised a brow. "What do you mean 'can't'? With the shit you've put in your body I'm pretty sure some fuckin' Advil ain't gonna kill ya."

"Look, I can't tell ya why, okay?" Angel Dust snapped. "What matters is I can't risk it, end of story."

"Can't _risk_ it?" Husker paused, mulling that over a moment before setting the bottle of pills on the ground. "Look, I don't know what the hell you got yourself into, but whatever it is you should talk ta Charlie. She's good people, she'll help ya out. If someone's got somethin' on ya she might even sic Al on 'em, that'll clear it up _real_ quick."

"Yeah, fat chance considering _he's_ the problem," Angel Dust grumbled. He froze, eyes going wide with the realization of what he had just said. "Shit, I mean, _fuck_, I didn't-"

Husker raised a paw, cutting him off. "I'm gonna stop ya right there." His tone didn't leave any room for question, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "I'm gonna ask ya some questions, and you're gonna just answer yes or no. Ya got that?"

Angel Dust hesitated a moment before nodding.

"Good, and don't you dare try ta fuckin' lie ta me, I'll know. I ain't Hell's poker champ for no reason, and I've known your tells since my first day here." He put his paw down, golden eyes watching Angel Dust closely. "First question. Did Alastor threaten you?"

"That's a complicated answer," Angel Dust said.

"That wasn't a yes or no, try again."

Angel Dust furrowed his brow. "Husk, it ain't that simple. He-"

"_Yes_ or _no_ motherfucker, _pick one_."

Angel Dust stopped, giving Hucker a once over. With his eyes narrowed and tail flicking in irritation, Angel Dust figured he was about one wrong answer away from those claws gouging his eyes out. After a moment he gave a defeated sigh. "Yes."

"Thought so. You make a deal with him?"

"Yes."

"Of course you did." Husker rubbed his face, considering a moment before he continued. "Did he hurt you?"

"No." Angel Dust didn't even need to hesitate with that one. Alastor was a dick, sure, but he hadn't so much as laid a finger on him.

"That's somethin', at least." Husker watched him for a moment before he spoke again. "One more. If you don't make good on your end of the deal, is he _gonna_ hurt'cha?"

"...yes."

"Damn it, you got yourself into one hell of a mess, didn't ya?" Husker looked out the window, taking in the view before him. "I don't suppose you'll tell me what the deal was?"

Angel Dust shot him a look. "You said that was the last question, Husk."

Husker shrugged. "It was worth a shot." He pushed himself up with a groan, shaking his wings out and stretching. "Tell ya what, if it goes too far give me a call. I ain't exactly willing ta fight him, but I can normally talk some sense inta him."

"Yeah, yeah okay." Even though this solved none of his problems, Angel Dust had to admit he felt a little lighter. Talking it out definitely helped some, even if he hadn't said much. "...hey, Husker?"

"If you're gonna thank me, save it. I don't wanna fuckin' hear it." Husker pointed a claw at him, eyes narrowed in a glare. "I didn't do muchy shit when I was alive, and I sure as hell ain't doin' it now that I'm dead."

"I was _gonna_ say if this coffee ain't good I'm gonna go downstairs and pour it all over your bar," Angel Dust said with a smirk.

Husker snoted, clearly trying to cover up a laugh. "Ya fuck up my bar, I'll fuck up your face."

"Ohhh, kinky!"

"Don't make me regret doin' ya a solid," Husker growled. He made his way towards the door, tail swishing behind him. "I'll send Niffty in ta get some of this shit cleaned up. Foods in the fridge when ya decide ya want some."

"Yeah, whatever." Angel Dust watched as he left the room, waiting until the door latched shut before turning his gaze down to his coffee cup.

The previous night had been shitty. So _incredibly_ shitty. His meltdown had only served to destroy everything he owned, along with what little was left of his dignity. The fact that he bit Alastor didn't help, as he was pretty extra sure he was going to pay for that one later. But, for right now, he had coffee and just enough support to get by, and that was enough. He closed his eyes as he took a sip, letting the warmth run through him. Oh, _damn_ that was good. Husker hadn't been kidding, there was enough sugar in that cup to rot his teeth on contact. Perfect, that was just the way he liked it. If he didn't know any better he would have said there was a hint of vanilla in there too, but there was no way in hell Husker would be that nice. He shifted to sit up before taking another sip, letting his shoulders sag. He may have been in hell, but soft moments like this were like a little slice of heaven to him. Just a moment where he could let himself fall apart and pick up the pieces, when he didn't have to pretend to have it all together lest it be caught on camera. Or worse, lest Valentino found out.

A rapid knock on his door followed by the squeal of the hinges pulled his attention. He didn't have to turn around to know it was Niffty, especially not when she let out a horrified gasp.

"Miss Angel Dust, you made such a mess!"

"Yeah, sorry about that," he said, letting a soft smile play on his lips. "I'll clean it up though, promise."

"I'll help! Let me go get my broom, there's a lot of broken glass!"

He listened to her scurry away before he took another sip. Truth be told, he came dangerously close to breaking last night. With his drug of choice so well within reach it took every ounce of willpower not to just end it there. He wasn't sure how much longer he could live like this, cooped up with Alastor pulling his strings like some kind of marinette. But this, this he could handle. He had friends here, he just had to remember that.


	10. Chapter 10: A New Perspective

Charlie sighed as she closed the bedroom door behind her. Well _that_ had been a night of disaster. Angel Dust hadn't stopped screaming until well into the morning, much to everyone's dismay. When it had finally stopped Charlie was primed to walk through the door and assess the damage, but Husker had stopped her. He had told her to go lie down, that he would take care of it, and she was so shocked that she hadn't even considered arguing. Now, though, she wasn't so sure. Husker wasn't exactly a delicate person, should she really have trusted him to handle Angel Dust in such a fragile state? Maybe she should go back out there and-

"Charlie?"

Vaggie's voice caught her attention, pulling her from her thoughts. She looked over to the bed and gave a weak, forced smile. "Oh, sorry Vaggie, I didn't mean to wake you up."

"S'fine, hun." Vaggie sat up, pulling the covers down and patting the spot next to her. "You should sit down, did you even sleep _at all _last night?"

Charlie went over to the side of the bed and took a seat. "Of course I did," she lied. Vaggie gave her a look, making her stop and let out a soft sigh. "Okay, no, I didn't… but I didn't really have a chance. He _just_ stopped breaking things."

"Holy shit, are you serious?" Vaggie glanced at the clock, brows arching in shock. "Charlie it's _six in the morning_, that's like twelve hours!"

Charlie looked down and wrung her hands together. "I know, it really has me worried about him."

"Yeah, worried that he's gone _psycho_," Vaggie muttered.

Charlie shot her a look. "That's not fair and you know it."

Vaggie shot her a look right back. "Oh, isn't it though?" She stopped and sighed, taking one of Charlie's hands in her own. "Look, hun, I know you mean well, and I know you want to see the best in people but Angel Dust… that guy might just be a lost cause."

Charlie's eyes widened and she pulled her hand away, looking much like she had just been stabbed in the back. "Vaggie, how could you say that?!"

"How can you _not_?" Vaggie said. "Charlie, you and I both know he hasn't been trying since he got here, not really. We _both_ know about the drugs and booze he's snuck in, we know he keeps going out to pick fights and pick up guys, we know he's here for the free rent and that's _it_. We can't keep pretending like he's going to change, maybe it's time we picked someone else."

"We can't just go out and _pick_ someone, you know that," Charlie snapped. "They _have_ to volunteer or it doesn't work, and he's the only volunteer we have. Besides, all of that's changed since he's been under house arrest, this is the first incident we've had! He hasn't even been high!"

"Yeah, and how long will that last? We both know he has a stash, and the second the withdrawal kicks in he's gonna break."

"You don't _know_ that," Charlie insisted.

"Yes I do, and you do too!" Vaggie waved her arms a bit. "Why are we sitting here, wasting our time on someone who doesn't want redemption? I've said it before and I'll say it again, he's a _lost cause_."

"The only lost cause in this hotel is Alastor!"

They both froze with the outburst, staring at each other. Vaggie slowly lowered her arms until her hands were resting on the bed, eye fixed on Charlie in shock. "...what did you just say?"

Charlie looked down, tears brimming in her eyes. "I don't know, I just… I don't know."

"No, you do know." Vaggie took her hand again, voice soft as her touch. "Please, talk to me?"

Charlie considered a moment before she sighed. She scooted herself closer to Vaggie, leaning against her once she was within reach. "I don't know, I just… the longer he's here, the longer letting him in seems like a _mistake_."

"I mean, I don't disagree," Vaggie said, "but what's changing your mind about this now?"

"To be honest?" Charlie paused a moment, rubbing at her arm. "I've… kind of _always_ felt like that, but I was so desperate when he came. I thought, maybe if I didn't make a deal, I could stay in charge. And I have, I think, and he _seems_ to be staying in line, but with this whole house arrest thing… I think he's up to something. I think he's _been_ up to something and, whatever it is, I can't prove it."

"Knowing Alastor? You're probably right." Vaggie ran her fingers through Charlie's hair in an effort to soothe her. "What do you think he has planned?"

"I'm not sure," Charlie admitted. "Part of me thinks he did something to Angel Dust. Everything that's happening, it doesn't make sense."

Vaggie raised a brow. "How so?"

"Well…" Charlie considered her words a moment. It was easier to think now, she could feel herself starting to relax with Vaggie's minstrations. "First of all, it doesn't make sense that he hasn't even tried to sneak out once. At first I thought maybe he was just ready to start trying, but when Alastor took him to go see his family… I _told_ Alastor that they could go if Angel Dust wanted to, but I never thought he'd agree to it. I wasn't about to hold him back from trying to make up with them if that's what he wanted, but I know what they did to him. I didn't think he'd actually go."

"I mean, it is weird, but he _did_ agree to go," Vaggie said.

"See, and I'm not so sure about that." Charlie pushed herself up so she and Vaggie were eye level. "What if he _didn't_ agree to it? What if Alastor _forced_ him?"

"Forced him?" Vaggie raised a brow. "How would he do that? He hasn't been violent, and Angel Dust isn't exactly good about keeping his mouth shut if something were going on."

"You're right, but it's the only explanation I can think of." Charlie brushed a bit of hair from her face, looking away to the wall. "But, like I said, I can't _prove_ anything, and I can't exactly kick him out without cause."

"Why not?" Vaggie asked. "It's _your_ hotel."

"Because I have to set a good example," Charlie said. "If I just kick him out without any reason, we're going to lose what little credibility we have. We _need_ to make sure anyone who wants to come feels welcome, and they aren't going to feel welcome if they think we'll just throw them to the streets out of the blue."

Vaggie considered that a moment before sighing. "I wish I had a better answer for you, but you're not wrong."

"I know." Charlie looked back at Vaggie, exhaustion clear on her features. "Can… can we just lay down for right now? I don't have to for very long, if I can sleep 'till eight I think I'll be okay but, I just, I need to lie down.

"Yeah, yeah of course you can." Vaggie slid back under the covers and lifted up one side in clear invitation. Charlie didn't hesitate to crawl under with her, curling up at her side. Vaggie wrapped her arms around her and rested her chin on Charlie's head. "I've got you, you just sleep okay?"

"Okay, thank you…" As she nestled against her girlfriend she slowly felt herself relax. That was a weight she had needed to get off her chest for a while now, and it was incredible how much doing so cleared her head. Now, as she fell asleep in the arms of someone she loved, she could only hope that when she awoke, things would be better. They had to be.


	11. Chapter 11: Worse Than Any Hangover

It was day four when Alastor opened his eyes with a soft groan, his vision bleary. He hadn't expected to fall asleep, but now he was sorely regretting waking up. It felt as if someone had driven a railroad spike into his skull. If Angel Dust's venom was still this potent, more than likely he hadn't slept too long. This was good, he had a reputation to uphold. He glanced at his bedside clock to assess the damage. As long as it hadn't been more than a couple of hours he would be fine, he could just wave it off as him wrapping up some paperwork. But when he saw the time he felt what was left of his heart seize in his chest.

It was one in the afternoon.

_It was one in the afternoon._

If his clock was correct, that would mean he had slept for almost _nineteen hours_. He jolted up, ignoring the way his head screamed in protest. Nineteen hours was _far_ too long for him to be away. What of his territory? What of the _hotel_? The place had barely been standing before he got his claws into it, and this was _Hell_ of all places. The territorial climate could change overnight, especially if it had been a while since a major player such as himself had been spotted. This was catastrophic. This was _disastrous_. He got up and strode over to the window, flinging back the curtains. Now for him to assess the damage, no doubt-

Oh. It would appear as if it were fine.

He watched for a brief moment as a handful of lesser demons went about their day, causing general mischief and taking part in questionable activities. Maybe no one had been paying it any attention after all. He could see his radio tower in the distance, standing tall as ever, and no one seemed to be waging war with his current residence.

Well, that was just one less thing for him to deal with.

What he _did_ need to deal with, however, was Angel Dust. No doubt the miserable harlot was still locked in his room, though hopefully his little meltdown was over and done with. The last thing Alastor needed was another session of _that_, especially while the surprisingly potent venom still had such a hold on him. Alastor forced himself up with a soft grunt, silently cursing his own body for its lack of cooperation. Venom or no, he had a job to do. First thing first, he should probably let Angel Dust out. Hopefully he had recovered from his crazed state and gone back to his unfavorable yet preferable normal state. After giving himself a once over in the mirror Alastor set out into the hallway, taking it one dizzying step at a time. Vertigo was not his infliction of choice, but it was one he could live with. When he reached Angel Dust's room he rapped his knuckles against the door, giving himself just a moment to take a deep breath and steady himself.

"Angel Dust?" His voice cracked a bit, enough to cause him to furrow his brow, and he cleared his throat. "Angel Dust, are you awake or have you tired yourself out? I _do_ hope you're finished with your little tantrum."

"Miss Angel Dust isn't here right now!"

Alastor's brows arched in surprise. That was definitely _not_ Angel Dust. "Niffty, darling, why are you in Angel Dust's room?"

He stepped back as the door swung open, revealing Niffty holding a small broom and dustpan. Behind her was a room in shambles, as if a particularly emotional tornado had blown through. "Miss Angel Dust had a rough night last night, so Husker said I should clean her room!"

Alastor cocked a brow. "Niffty, darling, Angel Dust is a man."

"Right! Anyway, Husker said I should clean his room so he doesn't have to worry about it." She gestured into the room. "Miss Angel Dust _really_ made a mess, so there's a lot to clean!"

"He isn't-" Alastor stopped himself and sighed. Some battles weren't worth fighting. "Oh, nevermind. Do you know where he ran off to? I'd hate to have to reign him in if he's wreaking havoc."

"Oh, sure!" Niffty beamed up at him. "I think he said he was getting something to eat from the kitchen."

"Thank you, my dear, that's all I needed." Alastor spun on his heel, doing his best to ignore the way the room spun with him. If Angel Dust was taking a moment to get food that was somewhat promising. It certainly indicated he wasn't on some kind of rampage, Alastor doubted he would have been in the mood to deal with something of that caliber.

He made his way down the stairs and towards the kitchen, hoping the slight wobble in his step was less than noticeable. It was almost as if the longer he was standing the weaker he became. That ruled out walking it off as an option, but if it truly became unbearable he could always retire back to his room later. For now he needed to investigate where this series of events had gone without him. As he approached the kitchen doorway he smelled something warm and sweet, accompanied by the sound of bickering.

"Fuck that smells _amazing_." That voice most certainly belonged to Angel Dust. "You almost done? I'm _starvin'_ over here! I feel like you're takin' forever on purpose."

"Just be patient." There was Charlie. "I'm almost done, but if you want this done right you're going to have to wait."

"Ugh, I don't _wanna_ wait, I haven't eaten since yesterday!"

"And whose fault is that?"

"...Yeah, okay, fair point."

Alastor strolled into the kitchen in just enough time to see Charlie tossing some sugar in a bowl with some chopped strawberries. Angel Dust was sitting at the kitchen island, impatiently drumming his fingers against the counter top. "And just what are you two up to?"

Charlie looked up, greeting him with a warm smile. "Oh, good morning, Alastor! We're making strawberry shortcake, would you like some?"

Alastor waved her off. "None for me, thank you, I'm not too fond of sweets." He glanced over at Angel Dust, who had withdrawn himself the second Alastor had stepped into the room. He was now staring at the counter, all drumming and fidgeting ceased. "I'm surprised you have the stomach for it, after all the destruction you wrought last night."

Angel Dust shot him a nasty glare before glancing down at what both he and Alastor knew to be a fairly severe bite wound. He then looked back up to maintain a frankly uncomfortable moment of eye contact, expression cold. "Yeah, well, unloadin' like that tends ta work up an appetite. Not that it matters ta _you._"

Alastor had a feeling Angel Dust wasn't talking about the emotional outburst, but rather the alarming amount of venom he had sent coursing through Alastor's veins. His smile twitched with his irritation. "On the contrary, my dear, it matters quite a bit."

Angel Dust gave him a look before rolling his eyes. "I ain't'cher 'dear'." His tone was a blend of annoyance and indifference, as if this interaction simply weren't worth his time.

Alastor froze, taken aback. Well _that_ was bold. "_Excuse_ me, I-"

"And it's done!" Charlie took it upon herself to step between the two, holding a plate of perfectly arranged strawberry shortcake with a nervous smile. She glanced at Alastor before looking to Angel Dust. Not exactly expert conflict resolution, but it sufficed nonetheless. "I put extra whipped cream on it, hope you like it!"

Angel Dust had his eyes locked on the plate, watching as it was sat down in front of him. He was practically drooling. "Holy shit that looks good. Charlie baby you have outdone yourself, let me tell ya."

"Don't say that until you try it first," Charlie chuckled. Despite her protest she was clearly amused. She sat a fork on his plate before taking a seat across from him. "I tried to make sure i put enough sugar on the strawberries, but you'll have to tell me what you think."

"Oh you know I will." Angel Dust didn't hesitate to take a bite, entire expression lighting up. "Holy _shit_!"

Charlie gave a hopeful grin, looking proud of herself. "Is it good?"

"Good?" Angel Dust snorted. "Toots this is better than cocaine."

Charlie's expression went from pride to horror. "Wait, hold on, does that mean I'm enabling you? Can you get addicted to sugar?"

Angel Dust let out a laugh, one that was so soft and lighthearted it left Alastor frozen. "I'm _kidding_, Charlie, calm down." He gave her a pat on the shoulder before he went back to his shortcake. To say he looked delighted was an understatement, he was more relaxed than Alastor thought he had ever seen him. How odd, given the state he had been in last night.

"If you don't want shortcake, is there something else I can help you with?" Charlie's words snapped him from his musings. He looked at her, taking just a moment to let himself emit random radio chatter as he composed his thoughts. Once he was finished he grinned, folding his hands behind his back.

"No, dear, I don't think there is! I just came to check on your little pet project here," Alastor glanced at Angel Dust and narrowed his eyes a tad, "but I think it's safe to say he's doing just fine. If you have this handled I believe there is other business that I can attend to."

"Oh, yeah, okay." Charlie gave him a half-hearted smile, though she could clearly tell something was off. No matter, as long as she didn't know _what_ was off Alastor was fine.

Angel Dust, on the other hand, was a little more in the know. He snorted, glancing up at Alastor. "Lemme guess, gonna go double check our painkiller supply? Got a bit of a _headache_?"

Alastor managed to stay smiling through gritted teeth, though he was sure he looked downright murderous. He glared at Angel Dust, head snapping to the side as if it were broken. "I'm _sure_ I don't know what you mean, why ever would I need _those_."

Angel Dust gave a cheeky smile, one that could easily be interpreted as a threat. "Oh, call it a gut feeling. Pretty sure I'm not the only one that had a rough time last night."

Charlie glanced between the two, clearly aware _something_ had happened between them but lost all the same. "Ooookay, well," she stood, inserting herself back between the pair, "I'm not sure what either of you are talking about, and I'm not sure I _want_ to know, but I _do_ know you said you had work to do." She looked to Alastor, offering a small, supportive smile. "If you need anything just let me know, okay?"

"Oh, I'm sure I won't," Alastor huffed. He turned and strolled out of the kitchen without giving her a chance to respond. Things were complicated enough as it was, he didn't exactly need Charlie getting involved. There was, however, someone else he would consider consulting. Someone who more than likely didn't care how things panned out either way, someone who could hold his secrets as well as he could hold his liquor.

He made his way to the bar, quickly spotting the demon he was looking for. He didn't hesitate to take a seat on one of the bar stools, giving himself just a moment to recover from the vertigo that had been plaguing him ever since he awoke.

Husker looked at him and raised a brow. "You, uh, you alright over there?"

"Just fine." Alastor folded his hands over the bar and examined the bottles behind the counter. "Though, I could use a glass of brandy if you'll spare it."

Husker snorted as he grabbed the bottle and poured a glass. "Ain't'chu supposed to be squeaky clean so you can lead by example or some shit?"

"He says as he pours a glass anyways," Alastor retorted. He took the glass when it was offered, holding it gingerly in his fingers. He stared at it a moment before taking a small sip.

Husker raised a brow. "Ya know, for such a badass, ya sure drink brandy like a fuckin' priss."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Alastor said, taking another sip.

"Yeah, sure ya don't." Husker rolled his eyes before giving Alastor a once over, expression shifting to something he couldn't quite read. "Really though, you good? Don't think I've ever seen you disappear for that long."

Alastor shot him a look. "I'm _fine_, Husker, I don't know why I'd be anything but."

Husker snorted. "Really? Cause ya look like shit."

Alastor bristled at the comment, eyes narrowing into a glare. "I'm sorry, but I don't recall asking you for your opinion."

"That's the great thing about opinions," Husker said with a shrug. "They're like asses, everyone's got one."

Alastor rolled his eyes. "What a crude saying."

"Yeah, well, I'm a crude guy." Husker grabbed another bottle off the shelf and took a swig before leaning against the bar. "Really though, you were gone a pretty fuckin' long time. What gives?"

Alastor paused, considering a moment. There wasn't much in the way of good excuses he could use. That being said, telling the truth was absolutely out of the question. Ally or no, Hell was not the place to reveal moments of weakness. With this in mind he shrugged, taking another sip. "I was simply considering what you said last night, that's all." It wasn't his best work, but it would do.

Husker's brows arched in surprise. "_You_? Taking someone else's advice?"

"It could happen," Alastor said. "In fact, it's happening right now. Truth be told, if you're well versed in the matter, I could very much use your assistance in preventing future… _fits._"

"Right, like I'm gonna believe that." Husker shifted the bottle to his free hand and pointed at the window. "Next you're gonna look outside and tell me it's fuckin' frozen over."

"Why is it so unbelievable that I would consider it?" Alastor asked, exasperated.

"Because you're _you_," Husker retorted. "We both know you don't give a shit about the kid, so don't fuckin' pretend you do."

"Oh, as if you're any better," Alastor said. "The only reason we're even _having_ this conversation is because you're feeling some misplaced sense of comradery."

Husker slammed the bottom of his bottle down on the counter, feathers ruffled and fur standing on end. "No, we're having this conversation because _you_ thought it would be fuckin' funny to torment the local traumatized pornstar so _we_ would have to deal with it." He pulled his paws off the bar and held them up, almost as if in surrender. "Well you know what? I ain't fuckin' doin' it. You made your bed, now you get ta lie in it. You wanna keep him from throwin' fits? Then fix this goddamn mess yourself 'cause I ain't doin' it for ya."

"That's perfectly fine." Alastor's tone was dripping with malice, his grin tight. He stood, leaving his glass on the bar. "You weren't much help to begin with."

"Yeah, you keep tellin' yourself that," Husker snorted, rolling his eyes. "Meanwhile I'm gonna watch the little garbage fire ya got goin' on burn."

Alastor felt rage bubble in his stomach. His eyes narrowed, magic seeping out in the form of dark whisperings and manifested voodoo symbols. "How _dare_ yo-"

"Oh save it," Husker snapped. "We both know you're too invested in seein' how this plays out ta risk in on a damn temper tantrum."

Alastor froze. As much as he hated to admit it, Husker was right. He had put far too much work into this hotel to just throw his efforts away on a whim, even if that whim and all the violence it entailed was _thoroughly _justified. So, instead, he just huffed and turned away. If Husker wasn't going to be of any assistance, he had somewhere else he could go. There was someone who would know the cause of the outburst better than anyone, someone who could provide information no one else had access to.

It was time to pay dear Molly a visit.


	12. Chapter 12: Uneasy

Angel Dust let out a soft sigh as Alastor left the kitchen, shoulders slumping. Damn that had been tense.

"Are you alright?"

He looked over to see a very concerned Charlie, her big, weirdly adorable eyes trained on him. He gave her a half-hearted smile, though he was sure it wasn't too reassuring. "Yeah, just… don't wanna talk ta him right now, I guess."

"That makes sense," she mused, looking to the doorway. She stared at it a moment before she looked back to Angel Dust, offering a small smile. "Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"

"Baby, this shortcake is already doin' that for you," Angel Dust said, shooting her a grin. "Seriously, I don't know how ya brought a little slice of heaven to this dump, but this is fuckin' _amazing_."

"Oh, you're just saying that." Despite her modesty, Charlie was absolutely beaming.

"No, no really this is _great_." Angel Dust smirked as a thought occurred to him. He leaned a little closer to Charlie, waggling his eyebrows. "Ya know, why keep up with this hotel biz? I bet if ya learned ta fry up a bit o'demon you could kick Jeff right off his cooking segment."

Charlie's eyes widened in horror and she squealed in protest, much to Angel Dust's delight. "Angel Dust, we can't have _cannibalism_ in the hotel, that's a sin!"

Angel Dust cackled, giving her a wink. "Calm down, toots, I'm just pullin' your leg. Demon ain't that good anyway."

The look of disgust on Charlie's face was priceless. "Wait, you've _had_ it?"

"Hey, what happened to that 'judgement free atmosphere' you promised?" Angel Dust asked, raising a brow. Just then, something flickered past the corner of his eye. A shadow, fast and fleeting. This wasn't exactly unusual, one rarely got more than a glimpse of Niffty as she skittered by. Angel Dust grinned and turned to address her. "Yo Niffty, ya done already? That was quick, even for yo-" He stopped. Eyes narrowing in confusion. No one was there. Weird.

Charlie frowned, brows furrowed in concern. "Angel Dust, are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah fine." He turned back to his companion, rubbing the back of his head. "Just thought I saw Niffty was all."

Charlie relaxed a bit, offering a small smile. "Oh! No, I didn't see her go by."

"Huh." Angel Dust shrugged, brushing it off easily. "Must've been my imagination."

"Maybe," Charlie mused. "I wonder how your room is coming along. Knowing her she's probably almost done by now."

"Yeah, probably." Angel Dust took one last bite of his shortcake before standing, pushing his chair in. "I should probably go check on her, make sure she's not throwin' all my shit away."

"Oh I'm sure she wouldn't-" Charlie paused before pursing her lips. "Yeah, no, you should definitely go check on her."

"Glad we can agree, sweet cheeks." He patted her head as he walked past, letting a small smirk play on his lips. "I'll catch up with ya later, okay?"

"Just make sure you stay out of trouble," she said in a teasing tone.

"No promises!" Angel Dust shot her a wink and some finger guns before strolling out of the kitchen with a chuckle. For all the hell he gave Charlie, he had to admit she was pretty alright. Honestly, the hotel as a whole wouldn't be so bad if only Alastor would go find something better to do. But, he had to remind himself, in less than a month Alastor wouldn't be much of a problem anymore. More importantly, _Valentino_ wouldn't be much of a problem anymore. All he had to do was wait out whatever sick games Alastor had planned, and then he'd have his own little paradise in hell. There was no way in hell that prude would actually _keep_ his contract once he bought it, so if he just held out a little longer it would be smooth sailing for the rest of eternity. Hopefully that smooth sailing would include all of his belongings, but who knew what Niffty had already tossed out. Not that it mattered too much, Alastor had already taken all of the good shit anyway.

Angel Dust stopped at his door, taking a deep breath before pushing it open. "Niffty? Ya in here?"

"Absolutely, miss Angel Dust!" She was on his bed, finishing up with fluffing his pillows. When he entered she looked over at him with a grin. "I hope you like it, I worked pretty hard! This place really needed a lady's touch, which is weird because you're-"

"A man." Angel Dust said, cutting her off. He glanced around, a bit surprised with the state of his room. The place was absolutely spotless, but not as literally as he thought it would be. It turned out Niffty had thrown little to nothing away, only what was broken, and had straightened up the rest to look better than new. Even his personal movie collection, starring yours truly, was back on it's shelving in alphabetical order. "Still a man, Niffty. Gotta say though, I'm impressed! Ya really outdid yourself with this one, didn't'cha?"

"I did my best!" She hopped off the bed and skittered over, looking over her handiwork with a pleased little smile. "Husker said if I spruced it up all nice and pretty like he'd give me contraband!"

Angel Dust snorted. "Well wasn't that nice of him."

"It was!" Niffty looked up at him with a grin, though it quickly faded with a soft frown taking its place. "Are you alright, miss Angel Dust? You don't look so good."

"Who, me?" Angel Dust considered a moment, rubbing his arms as a random and sudden chill wracked his body. He _did_ feel a little odd but, then again, he also didn't sleep at all last night. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine, just tired. Hey, you think anyone will complain if I take a little nap? Ya know, just ta perk me up a bit."

"I don't see why not!" Niffty's smile returned as quickly as it had faded. "I'll tell everyone to leave you alone, us ladies have to get our beauty rest in after all!"

"Niffty, I'm _not_-," Angel Dust groaned and rubbed his face. "Why do you think I'm a girl? Why do you _always_ think I'm a girl?"

"Well that's a silly question!" Nifty patted his leg, as if she were consoling him for being the dumbest motherfucker to strut into hell. "How could I _not_ know you're a girl? You're too pretty to be a boy! Besides, no man could wear boots _that_ stylish."

"I… hm." Anger Dust pursed his lips, taking a moment to mull that over. "Gotta admit, that reasoning is dumb as rocks, but ya just made it so much harder to be mad at'cha for it."

Niffty just nodded with a smile, pretending she knew what he meant. The blank expression on her face told Angel Dust that was a straight up lie. He chuckled and patted her head, careful not to mess up her cute little hairdo. "Tell ya what, why don't I go lie down, and you go ask Charlie for some strawberry shortcake. She just made some, I _know_ we have it, so she can't hold out on ya."

Niffty gasped, putting her hands up to her cheeks. "I _love_ strawberry shortcake! I'm gonna go get some okay bye bye!" That was the last Angel Dust saw of her before she made her way out the door, the soft pitter-patter of her little boots following her down the hall. He waited until she was out of earshot before giving a soft sigh and letting himself down onto his bed. She was cute, but holy fuck was she exhausting.

But, now that she was gone, it was time to get that nap in.

He shifted to lie down with a soft groan, confusion furrowing his brow. Weird, he was achy all over. …well, not that weird once he thought about it. He _did_ spend a solid twelve hours throwing the bitch fit of the century, he was bound to be a little sore. He was sure it would wear off with some sleep, or in the very least lesson a bit. With that thought he grabbed his fluffiest pillow and pulled it close to his chest, allowing himself a moment to bury his face in its plush surface. God, Hell might have sucked something awful, but he had to admit he preferred it to being alive. At least here he had things like this, little moments of comfort. He hadn't had that luxury in the overworld, oh no. He barely had _food_ back then, but here he had a bed, soft clothes, a little piggy to keep him occupied. Really, it was kind of an upgrade if you thought about it.

So why the hell was he so miserable?

He turned to his other side with a hum, shifting to get comfortable before closing his eyes. That seemed like something to ponder once he had some rest. Or not, ya know, resolving problems wasn't really his strong suit. Either way, this nap was long overdue. It didn't take him long to begin to drift off, the pain in his joints replaced with the numbness of sleep.

"What, sleepin' on the job _again_?"

Angel Dust's eyes snapped open, eyes quickly landing on the source of the familiar voice. At the foot of his bed stood his father, arms crossed with a scowl on his face.

"What?" Angel Dust scrunched his face up in confusion before realization dawned on him. The job they were pulling, he had forgotten. How could he have fallen asleep? They were pulling a heist on the Irish today, the _big_ one. This was his last chance to prove he had a place in this fucked up family and he was already blowing it.

Just like he had been blowing one of said Irish men about half an hour ago.

"Fuckin' useless, that's what you are," his father growled. He turned away, his disappointment nearly palpable. "Get your shit and get out. You're done."

"Wait, no!" Angel Dust pushed himself up, not able to help the trembling of his voice. "Hold on, it won't happen again just let me stay! Let me come home, please!"

"A swish like you? I don't fuckin' think so."

Angel Dust stopped, eyes widening. "A swish? How-" and it hit him all at once. That night going back to the house, the gunshot, the overdose, everything going so, so wrong faster than he could have ever seen it coming. "Wait, hold on, you're… I'm _dead_!"

"No shit, sherlock." His father turned back to him, face distorting until it more closely resembled the demon he had come to know. "We're _all _dead, you'd know that if you weren't so fuckin' stupid."

"No, no no." Angel Dust stood on shaky legs, boots clicking against the floor. "Pops, I don't-"

"Oh Aaaaangeeeel."

Angel Dust froze, his blood running cold. That was the only voice he dreaded more than his father's. He turned, shrinking back away from the figure that towered over him and giving a nervous smile. "H-Hey there, Val, long time no see."

"I wonder whose fault that is." Valentino stepped towards him, his eyes narrowed through the blood red lenses of his sunglasses. "You wanna tell me why you haven't been comin' in? Don't tell me you've been avoiding me."

"What, me, avoiding you? No, no no no no no," Angel Dust waved his upper hands a bit, his lower hands rubbing his arms in a half-assed attempt at comforting himself. The smell of burnt sugar and rancid meat began to fill the air in a blatant display of his distress. "Of course not, Val baby, I'm all yours, you know that."

"Oh do I?" Before Angel Dust could react Valentino grabbed his chin, pulling his face forward hard enough to make him stumble. He sneered, and Angel Dust felt his heart seize for a moment. "Because it looks ta me like you've been getting awfully _cozy_ with that radio demon o'yours."

"Val, I promise, it's not what it looks like." Angel Dust struggled to talk through the fingers digging into his chin, fingers that were sure to leave bruises later. "They've had me locked up, I-I swear, I _wanted_ to go see you I just-"

He was cut off by yet another familiar voice, one filled with static. "Oh Angel Dust, lying doesn't suit you." Alastor stepped into view, humming as he walked with his hands folded behind his back and a smirk gracing his lips. He stopped just behind Valentino, turning to face Angel Dust with narrowed eyes and a malicious grin.

Angel Dust's eyes widened. "Alastor? What's the hells goin' on?"

"'_What the hell's goin' on_?'" Valentino mocked, doing a piss poor imitation of Angel Dust's higher voice. "Ya tryin' ta be cute, ya little whore? I know all about your deal, you were tryin' ta _leave me_."

Angel Dust looked to Alastor, not bothering to try and hide the betrayal in his eyes. "You told him? Al what the fuck?! We had a deal!"

"Oh Angel, so naive." Alastor chuckled, spinning his microphone a bit. He glanced at him with a smug little smile, his eyes half lidded. "Why would I _ever_ make a deal with you?"

Angel Dust's expression fell, his stomach tying itself into knots. "But… but the handshake, the zap, I _felt_ it!"

"An impressive lightshow on my part, I'll admit," Alastor said. "Not too convincing, but it's not surprising it fooled _you_. What else would I expect from hell's most shameful harlot?"

Angel Dust tried to pull back from Valentino's grip, but that just earned him claws in his skin. He felt them break through, felt the blood trickle down his chin, but he could ignore the pain like he had so many times before this. Rather than show any weakness he glared at them both, baring his fangs. "Oh yeah? Well just you wait until _Charlie_ hears about this! She's not gonna let you take her one and only patron away, not after all we've been through!"

The two men froze, glancing at each other before bursting into a fit of unsettling laughter. Angel Dust glanced between this, his confidence melting away like an icecube in an incinerator. "What? What the fuck is so funny, huh?"

"Oh Angel Dust, you really are a _doll_," Alastor cackled. From behind him stepped Molly and Cherri Bomb, their arms crossed with matching grins on their lips.

"Who do you think sold ya out, sugar?" Molly asked, tapping a finger to where his nose should have been.

"What, you thought you had _friends_ here?" Cherri Bomb sneered. "Fat chance, dipwad. This is _Hell_. Christ, I knew you were too fuckin' soft."

"I'm not soft!" Angel Dust protested. He stumbled back as Valetino let go of his chin, straightening up. "I didn't get this far just for you all ta put me down!"

"What the hell are you talkin' about?" Angel Dust whipped around, met with the sight of Husker with a bottle resting between his claws. "Far as I can see ya didn't even make it past the whorehouse. You prance around like ya think you're some big fuckin' deal, but'chu ain't nothin' but Hell's favorite fleshlight."

"That…" Angel Dust found himself at a loss for words for a moment, eyes welling up with tears. "That's not true! Charlie! Charlie help me!"

He squealed as a spear was thrust into his face, scrambling back to avoid the razor sharp point. Vaggie was on the other end, glaring him down with a snarl. "You don't _deserve_ her help, you puta barata y usada en exceso!"

He narrowed his eyes at her, the familiar taste of venom stinging his tongue. "I dunno what the fuck you just said, but I guarentee it was un-fuckin'-called for."

"Oh I disagree, I think it was _very_ called for." The voice that spoke was all to familiar, but the tone so foriegn it was nearly unrecognizable. A red light flickered on behind him, unbroken save for his own elongated shadow. He looked around, startled to see that everyone had disappeared. No, no the only thing left now was the red light, and whoever was casting it.

Angel Dust slowly turned to find the Happy Hotel looming over him, bathing him in neon crimson. His eyes trailed down to the open doors, spotting Charlie standing in the doorway. He couldn't help the way his shoulders sagged, the way he smiled in relief at the sight of her. There she was, the one person who would never hurt him. He stumbled towards the doors, eager to have sanctuary once again. "Charlie, oh thank fuck! You would not _believe_ what just happened, they just came outta _nowhere_ and-"

She cocked her head, her smile strained. "What do you think you're doing?"

He stopped, furrowing his brow. "I don't… what? What do you mean?"

"I mean, _what are you doing_?" Her eyes narrowed, and it was now he spotted the fabled yellow irises and red sclera. A rare sight from her. "You don't belong here, Anthony, go home."

His expression fell in an instant, his stomach dropping with it. "Charlie, baby, what are you talkin' about? This _is_ home, you said I could stay here."

"Oh, Anthony." Her expression was one of pity, somehow that stung worse than anything else that had been thrown at him thus far. "I know a lost cause when I see one. Maybe someone else will take you before the extermination hits."

"Charlie, charlie come on, what are you talking about?" He said with a nervous laugh. "I _live_ here, you took me in! You're the one that said I could be more, remember? That I could be better?"

Her smile was soft and sweet, with an undertone of sadness. "People change, Angel Dust, but you don't. Good luck out there."

He could only watch, tears threatening to spill over, as the door closed in his face. He stood there for a moment, disbelieving, before the hotel light flickered off, shrouding him in darkness. It had happened again. For the first time in a long time, he was truly alone.

And then he woke up.

Angel Dust sat up with a gasp, his fur drenched in sweat and pink goop. He was shaking, his fingers gripping the soiled sheets. He sat there for a moment, taking his waking moments one breath at a time, before it all became too much. There, alone in his room, Angel Dust curled up and began to cry.


	13. Chapter 13: Coward's Way Out

**Author's Note: **I cannot stress this enough, if suicide is a trigger for you DO NOT read this chapter. It's not essential, and there is a pretty bad suicide. You have been warned.

* * *

Molly's ears rang with the gunshot, enough so that she barely heard her own scream. She didn't know if Anthony had been hit at first, he was already climbing out of the window before she could react, but the blood splatter he left in his wake confirmed her worst fears. She felt dread spread through her, dread that turned to fury in almost an instant. She turned to her father, her eyes narrowed. "Did you just fucking _shoot him_?!"

He didn't say anything for a moment, staring at the blood with a dumbstruck look on his face. But then his expression hardened and he lowered his gun. "It's what he deserved."

Molly swore in that moment she saw red. She balled her fists, her eyes welling up with tears. "Are you _fuckin' kidding me?_"

Henry seemed intent on ignoring her little outburst. Instead he simply shoved the gun back into his waistband and turned back to his map. "He ain't worth goin' after. Won't last long in this cold anyway." He then glanced at the lasagna on the floor, furrowing his brow with a grunt. "Clean that shit up. I swear, you're always making a fuckin' mess."

The thoughtless comment sent her over the edge. She threw her potholders down onto the table, knocking the pins out of Henry's map. "How about _you_ clean it up for once!"

He looked up, shocked for a moment before his eyes hardened in a glare. "_Excuse me?_ Missy you better lose the attitude or else-"

"Or else _what?!_" She screamed, shoving a finger into his chest. "Or else you'll kill my brother? You'll kick me out just like him? Well don't _fuckin' bother _ because I'm _leaving!_"

"What the hell do you mean _leaving_?" Henry stepped forward, towering over her, but she was too furious with him to be intimidated. Instead she returned his glare, her words laced with venom.

"I mean it's either both of us or neither of us, and you made your choice pretty damn clear!" She stormed to the living room, grabbing her coat and throwing the front door open. "I'm goin where he goes."

"Then I guess you're goin' ta hell, 'cause he's gonna be dead by the time ya find him," Henry snapped.

"Not if I have anything to say about it." She stepped out of the door, slamming it behind her. She made the mistake of abandoning her brother once, she sure as hell wouldn't be doing it again.

It didn't take her long to find the blood trail, though the freezing rain and lack of light certainly didn't help any. Tracking him was slow going, the shine of the street lights on the ice making the trail difficult to see. The wind was downright brutal, stinging her fingers like tiny needles and causing her to shudder violently as she pulled her coat tighter around herself. She struggled to keep her balance as the cold leeched the feeling from her toes, making her wish she had changed out of her heels before she had left. Tiny shards of ice caught in her loose curls as the freezing rain bit at her exposed skin. If this was how _she_ was fairing, perfectly healthy and injury free, she couldn't even imagine how bad Anthony had it. After following for just a bit longer she realized where they were headed. He was making his way back to the bridge, of all places. Well, no one ever said he was smart, but at least that made him easier to find. With that she walked with renewed vigor, only loosely keeping an eye on the blood trail to make sure she was keeping to the right path. When she arrived to the slope before the river bank she winced, noting that there was far more blood splatter there, heavy on the way down. Not only that, but the footprints in the soft mud turned more to gouges in the earth, sliding down the bank before disappearing into the river, only to pop up again closer to the bridge. She really hoped that didn't mean what it implied, but she knew more than likely his ass had taken a dip in the water. Still, what mattered was he made it out. He'd be cold, but she could work with that.

She hurried down the slope, regretting that decision the second she felt her feet slip out from under her. Her heels skidded into the mud, cutting into the hillside to match her brother's folly before her. However, unlike him, she managed to fall back onto her ass and slide the rest of the way down. She was shaken and covered in mud, but at least she was dry. Well, as dry as one could be in freezing rain. She picked herself up and smoothed her coat, ignoring the mud on her hands before making her way over to the bridge. In the shadows she spotted a form, curled up on the ground, and she felt relief wash over her. She had found him. She had found him and now everything would be okay. They would get him somewhere warm, they'd patch him up, and he would be fine. She could finally fix this.

"Tony!" she called. She trotted up to him, letting a shaky smile cross her lips. "There you are, I've been lookin' everywhere for ya! Look, I know this is pretty bad, but I'm gonna help ya out. I'm not goin' back ta that house, not ever, so you and I are gonna be-" She stopped, her eyes narrowing a bit to study the man at her feet. It was hard to tell in the dark, but there was something very wrong. Anthony hadn't responded, he wasn't even moving.

Now that she was watching him, he wasn't even _breathing_.

"Tony?" She knelt by the body, panic welling up in her throat. The ground was slick with blood, _his_ blood, and his eyes were wide in a glassy stare. She grabbed his shoulder and shook it, earning no response. The body, though it still held some warmth, was far too cold. "Tony, _Tony_ this ain't funny, you better get your ass up!"

She shook him for a moment longer, tears streaming down her cheeks as she tried desperately to find an out. No, no this couldn't be happening. This was all just a crazy misunderstanding, a bad dream, _something_ other than what it appeared to be. Maybe this wasn't even him, wasn't even her brother. She gave him a once over, taking in the ratty clothes, the small pink tin clutched in his hand, the bullet hole in his shoulder, the soaked brown hair, the little button nose that matched her own so perfectly well. No, no this was him, this was her brother, and he was dead.

She wanted to scream, but she knew better. If the cops came down there, saw her, the daughter of a well known mobster, covered in blood with a body at her feet, it wouldn't end well for anyone. Instead she took a deep breath, fighting back the sob in her throat, and stood. No, she didn't have time to panic, she needed help. She needed _Archie_.

She stumbled back up the slope towards the road, a numbness settling into her chest. Maybe he wouldn't rat her out to daddy. Maybe he would keep quiet about this and she would be able to slip off, away from this nightmare of a family. Archie, as much as he was a lapdog, loved her. He had loved Tony, despite his protests otherwise. He would help her with this, he would help her take care of their brother before she left this hellhole forever.

Once she got into the light of the street lamps she looked down at her coat to see exactly how much blood she had on her. Surprisingly not as much as she had expected. Some on her knees, a little on her coat sleeve, but overall the mud covered damn near everything. If what most of what she had touch had even _been_ blood. Given how the bank had looked he had probably fallen into the river, and if he were that soaked he probably froze before-

No, _no_ she didn't want to think about that. She shook her head to clear it, taking another deep breath before setting off down the road. She wasn't too far from a payphone, she knew she wasn't, and she knew exactly where to call to get ahold of Archie. Her dad thought he was real slick keepin' her outta the loop, but she always knew what was goin' on. She always kept tabs just in case she needed to run, needed to avoid any feelers he put out. She had never expected she would need it for _this_, but it came in handy nonetheless.

Once she spotted a payphone she practically ran to it, fumbling in her coat pocket for some spare change. Once she found some she shoved the coins into the slot, quickly looking up the hotel she knew he was holed up in and dialing in the number.

"Come on, Archie, _pick up_." Though the phone only rang a couple of times after the number was connected, it felt like an eternity. She tapped her foot against the floor of the booth, eying the rest of the park through the glass panes. She perked up when she heard the receiver on the other end click, when she heard Archie's voice come through.

"Check in, what's the order?"

"Archie!" She couldn't help the relief that flooded her voice. "Archie thank God, I knew you'd pick up."

"Molly?" He sounded surprised, though she couldn't exactly blame him. "Molly what the hell? You can't be callin' this number, this line is for-"

"Work only, I know," Molly cut him off, "and I don't care. Listen, Archie, this is more important I promise."

"Molly, did someone take you? Are you bein' held hostage?" She could have rolled her eyes at his concern, as if she couldn't take care of herself. "Look if someone's got ya just say 'Daddy said ta tell ya Tony said hi' and then I'll know and they won't suspect a thing, okay?" He mimicked her higher voice for the quote, and he did so insultingly poorly.

"What? No, Archie, no one's got me." She rubbed her face with her free hand. Lord he was frustrating sometimes.

"Bullshit. Molly, you're calling from some random number and not from home, and more importantly you're calling the _emergency work line_. Excuse me if I don't trust it."

"No one's got me, but this _is_ an emergency." She insisted.

"Is it work related?" He asked.

"Well, no, not _technically_…" she said.

"Then go to pops. Molls I don't got time to waste on whatever shit you started, you're just gonna haf'ta-"

"Archie it's _Tony_." She couldn't help the sob that came out with her brother's name.

There was silence on the other end for a moment, she could practically hear him thinking. After a few long seconds he spoke, his tone cautious. "What _about_ Tony?"

"He's _dead_, Archie." The statement was met with a tense silence. After a moment she took a shaky breath, forcing herself to continue. "He's dead, daddy killed him. He got him in the shoulder with his gat and I… I just found him."

"I don't understand." Even through the receiver she could feel his stress. Or was that her own? "Molly, are ya sure? How would pops have even _found_ him?"

"That…" Molly hesitated a moment, but she knew she had to come clean. "That was my fault, I brought him home an-"

"YOU DID _WHAT?!_"

Molly jumped a bit, fumbling the phone for a moment before holding the receiver back up to her ear. "_Jesus_ Archie, yell a little louder why don'tcha?"

"Molly, why the fuck would you _ever_ take him into that house?" The accusation in his tone was damn near palpable.

"Ya didn't see him out there!" Molly defended. "Archie, he was _dying_!"

"Well now he's _dead_, so fat lotta good that did him," Archie snapped back.

Molly went silent, her breath catching in her throat. He was right, she knew he was right. This wasn't Anthony's fault, it wasn't even her father's, it was _hers_. She hung her head, tears welling up in her eyes. When she spoke her voice cracked with anguish. "It's… it's not like I _wanted_ this to happen I just, I just wanted him _home_…" There was silence on the other end as she sobbed, her shoulders shaking with the effort to keep quiet. The grief, the guilt, it hit her all at once, and it did so without mercy.

After a moment her brother sighed. "Where are you?" His tone was softer now, more understanding.

She gave herself a little time to recover, time to breathe, before she responded. "I'm at that little dinky park, the one 'bout two miles north of home."

"Okay, that's not too far." She heard him sigh as he considered his options. "Listen, Molls, you just wait there and I'll come get'cha. I'll be 10 minutes, tops."

She nodded before she realized that he couldn't see it. "Right, yeah, that sounds good."

"An' not a word of this ta pops, ya hear?" Archie warned. "If he finds out I left my post, I'll be next."

"Yeah, yeah of course," Molly said, her voice trembling with relief. The receiver clicked on the other end without a response, followed by a dial tone. She stood there, listening to it before gingerly setting the receiver into the cradle. For a moment she stared at it, letting herself process it all. Finally, she was going to get some help. Finally, she didn't have to be in this alone. Archie could help with the funeral, with burial arrangements, with everything she knew her father wouldn't. All she had to do was stay put and wait.

After a moment of deliberation she decided to stay in the phone booth. The only other shelter nearby was the bridge, and she would rather be _anywhere_ but there, anywhere but with _him_. She leaned against the glass of the booth with a soft sigh, closing her eyes and listening to the soft patter of the rain as she did her best to think of anything but the body under the bridge.

She was startled awake by a harsh knock on the glass, her eyes snapping open and arms flailing as she yelped in surprise. She thought she had only closed her eyes for a moment, but she must have dozed off because she was met with the sight of her older brother glowering at her through the screen between them. His dark hair was soaked, stuck fast to his forehead as dark brown eyes glared at her, barely reflecting the dim street light humming overhead. Molly huffed and smoothed her coat before pulling the door open, bringing in an unwelcome gust of frigid air.

Archie raised a brow, giving her a once over. "Enjoying your nap there, princess?"

Molly crossed her arms, shooting him a glare. "Did'ja _have_ ta do that?"

"I dunno, did _you_ have to fall asleep standin' up like some kinda freak?" He spat back. He paused before sighing, his shoulders sagging. "Look, I don't got all night, let's just get this over with. Where is he?"

Molly hesitated a moment. For some reason she hadn't considered the fact that she would have to go back, to see the body _again, _but now that she thought about it she didn't really have any other options. Even if she avoided it now, there would be a funeral eventually.

She took a deep breath before stepping out of the booth, steeling herself for what was to come. "Yeah, yeah you're right. He's down this way."

Archie followed as she led him down to the river bank, down to their brother's lifeless body. As hard as she wished for a miracle, wished he was gone or sitting up or berating her for leaving him there with no coat, he was still lying there, cold and lifeless, just as she had left him. She felt several unwelcome emotions swell at once; grief, remorse, guilt, longing, all contributing to the tears that welled up in her eyes and the sob that escaped her throat. She turned away and found herself face to face with Archie. She expected him to be stoic, calculating, but she was met with wide eyes and an unreadable expression.

"_Shit_, you sure that's him?" He asked. He looked almost as if he didn't believe it, as if he _couldn't_ believe it.

"Yeah, trust me, I'm sure," Molly croaked. She glanced back at him again, flinching a bit at the sight. She couldn't exactly blame Archie for being surprised, she hadn't been much better when she first saw him.

Archie leaned closer, squinting a bit in the low light. "Fuck, he looks old as _pops_."

Molly sighed. "Yeah, that's probably the drugs."

"Of _course_ he started that shit." Archie leaned back again, taking a moment to examine the scene before him now that he had gotten over the initial shock. "See that tin he's got? Probably took some before he kicked it. If the shot didn't kill him the overdose did."

"Either that or the syphilis," Molly grumbled.

Archie stopped, hesitating before looking at her with a raised brow. "The fuck is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"How do ya think I found him?" Molly asked. "He's been whorin' out, pretty successfully actually."

"Jesus H. _Christ_, of course he has." Archie pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a long sigh. "Okay, we can deal with this. No problem. Ain't the first time."

Molly nodded, remembering her mother's funeral. Odd comparison for him to make, but it still worked. "Exactly what I was thinkin'. Now, we didn't have much as a hand in that one, but I'm sure we can arrange _somethin'_. We could take him to the same home, they'd clean him up a bit, have a small service."

Archie stopped, looking at her like she had grown a second head. "Molly, what in the hell are you talking about?"

She stopped, furrowing her brow in confusion. "What do you mean 'what am I talking about'? The funeral, Archie."

"Are you stupid or somethin'?" He pointed a finger towards the body, glaring at her. "_That?_ That's _evidence_. If we take that to a home they're gonna wanna know where that bullet came from, an' pops will be done for."

"Well how the hell else are we supposed to have a funeral?" Molly asked, placing her hands on her hips. "Because I ain't dressin' him up myself."

"Molls, we're not _havin'_ a funeral," Archie said.

"What? No, of course we're having a funeral," she countered. "We _have_ to have a funeral!"

"I swear, you're so fuckin' thick sometimes," he snapped. "Molly, think about this. If we have a funeral, pops goes ta the big house. End of story. No, we gotta ditch the body, somewhere no one will ever find it."

Molly was taken aback at first, but quickly fell into a blind rage. "How the hell is that fair?! No, you know what? Maybe I _want_ daddy ta go ta jail for this, maybe he _deserves_ it!"

"Quit talkin' crazy," Archie scalded. "If pops goes down for this then who's gonna run the family business? Who's gonna take care of _you_?"

"I can take care of _myself_ thank you very much," she said. "Who said I was even staying in that house? After this I'm _done, _I'm living on my own."

"Oh, yeah, sure, I'm _sure_ you thought _that_ through," Archie said, his words dripping with sarcasm. "Where are you gonna get the money ta pay bills?"

Molly crossed her arms. "I can get a job."

"Oh, right, that won't be hard since you have _such_ a good work history," he spat. "And it's not like you're a _dame_ or anything, that won't cause any issues. And since you're so squeaky clean with _no_ crime family connections this'll just be soooo easy for you."

Molly stopped, at a loss for words. She hadn't even considered all of that. Still, that wouldn't stop her. She glared and balled her fists, determined as ever. "You dunno, I could get lucky, I could be _fine_."

"Yeah, or you could end up like _him_." Archie pointed to Anthony's lifeless body, lying there in the dirt. "Is that what you want? Ta be some drugged up hooker? Huh? Ta die out here for no goddamn reason?"

"What?" Molly put her hands up. "_No_, no I'd never-"

"Oh you'd _never_, huh?" Archie mocked. "How much you wanna bet he said the exact same thing? Nobody _wants_ that, Molls, but it fuckin' happens and there's not a damn thing you can do about it. Now you might be willin' ta risk it, but I sure as hell ain't so the way I see it you got two options here. You can either walk away now and I'll take care of this mess, or you can stay and help me and go back home like nothin' ever happened. Which is it gonna be."

She stood there, frozen. Horrified. Of course she didn't want to help him, of course she wanted to fight to give her brother the final dignity of a funeral, but she had a feeling that was never going to happen whether she liked it or not. That being said, the least she could do was refuse to give either of those bastards the satisfaction of ever seeing her walk through those doors again. The least she could do was disappear now, while she had the chance, and live her own life away from her brother's killer. Away from the toxic pit that she so begrudgingly called her family. But then…

She looked at the body, and the sad state of it all. The gaping expression, the frozen fingers, the aged skin, the stray gray hairs in his brown locks, the misery. Had he been so confident twelve years ago? Had he thought he was going to make it out on his own? What exactly would stop her from meeting a similar fate? Yeah, she had her will, but out in the cold like this how long would that last? Was she really willing to risk it all just for a little bit of pride? And, when you thought about it, how much did something like a funeral really matter? He was already dead, whether she liked it or not, and nothing she could ever do would bring him back. Not a funeral, not leaving, nothing. With the realization she felt the fire of determination within her go out, felt it leave nothing but a cold, empty hole where it had once been. After a moment her shoulders slumped, her resolve dissolving into nothing. "Yeah, yeah okay. Just tell me what ya need."

"Atta girl." Archie patted her shoulder, talking as if this were business as usual. Who knew, maybe for him it was. "Alright, I'm thinkin' he takes a little trip in the woods. The bay's a bit far, otherwise I'd dump him there, so I think putting him under is our best option. I got a car parked around the corner, I can pull it around and load him in the trunk. Think you can help me lift him up?"

"Yeah, I can do that." Her words were automatic, her tone almost mechanical. She felt numb, as if this couldn't really be happening. How could it? It went against everything she believed in, everything she stood for. She had started the night so full of hope, so determined to bring her family back together, and now it was broken in a way that could never be repaired. No, when Anthony died, he had taken a piece of her with him. There was nothing for her now, nothing but obligation.

The numbness that enveloped her lasted for years. She settled back into her life, quiet, compliant. She barely registered the time pass, barely felt it as almost a decade flew by. Her father grew older, Archie got married, her friends started families. Life moved on around her, but it didn't move _for_ her. It was as if she had completely shut down, had become a shell of the person she had once been, nothing but a house maid for her sorry excuse of a family.

It was about ten years later when the phone rang and she answered, met with word of her now late father and brother. They had been gunned down by the Irish, killed in the middle of negotiations. She was so far removed that she barely felt anything towards the news, save for a sense of relief, a dissipation of the obligation that had once kept her going. She barely felt anything as she hung up the phone without a response, only to go gather a long strip of bedsheet and tie it to the locked attic handle that jutted out from the hallway ceiling. She barely felt anything as she stepped onto her small kitchen stool, her heels resting against the wood as she tied the sheet around her own neck. She barely felt anything, up until the moment she kicked the stool out from under herself, until her vision went black as she gasped for air.

Then, that was when she felt it. The pain, the remorse, the longing, the guilt, all of it crashing down on her in a final crescendo of self misery. She felt the life leave her with the air leaving her lungs, she felt the satisfaction of it all being over and done with.

And once she was sure it was all over, she felt herself falling.


	14. Chapter 14: Coward's Confession

It didn't take much for Alastor to get the information he needed. Then again, it _never_ took much for Alastor to get the information he needed. A favor here, some intimidation there, a little cannibalism if he was feeling frisky, and he always got exactly what he was looking for. Today was no exception as he searched for Angel Dust's elusive sister. Initially he had assumed she would be easy to find, given the fact that he knew where she lived, but apparently she had gone "out" soon after they had left and had not yet returned. Henroin had sent their eldest brother, Arackniss, after her as a tail, but she had lost him fairly quickly and hadn't been seen since. Now, stabbing Henroin clean through with the staff of his microphone, watching him squirm and beg as Alastor had twisted it slowly, that may not have been strictly _necessary_ to obtain this information, but far be it from him to deny himself some good, old fashioned carnage. When that had yielded no results, however, Alastor took to the streets. It took longer than anticipated, and far more favors cashed in than he would care to admit, but he had finally nailed down her location. From what he could gather she was throwing herself quite the little party, hopping from venue to venue with various friends and consuming startling amounts of alcohol. Currently she was at a place called HeartB3AT with Cherri Bomb, and he made haste to keep her from evading him once again.

As he stepped up to the club it was everything he both expected and dreaded. Loud, pulsing music, scented fog laced with Lucifer only knew what, the stench of pure debauchery hanging in the air, it was the kind of place he normally wouldn't be caught dead in (Ha!). However, he was on a mission, one of the utmost importance. He _had_ to know what he had missed, what had caused such an extreme reaction, and how to avoid such fits in the future. Even if Angel Dust's father knew, which Alastor seriously doubted given what little information he had on their relationship, he had a feeling he wouldn't be able to count on Henroin for any semblance of an accurate rendition. No, Alastor needed someone more reliable, someone who was _close_ to Angel Dust. That had left either Cherri Bomb or Molly. Molly, out of the two, seemed like the less volatile option. Not that it mattered now, seeing as how they were both in the same place.

However, as he considered the building before him, he began to doubt the necessity of his venture. Did he really need this information badly enough that he was willing to subject himself to such a display? If this was merely the surface, who knew what horrors awaited within? He certainly wasn't eager to find out.

Then again, he wasn't exactly eager to be bitten again, either.

He took a moment to steele himself, taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders. He was the radio demon, the ruthless force of nature that had brought Hell to its knees in a single night. He could handle something as simple as a club, he had certainly handled far worse before. With that he strode forward, his head held high, exuding the confidence he was so notably lacking at the moment. This was a simple task for the likes of him, and he would prove it. He was nearly to the door, just a step or two away, when a lesser demon stumbled out and ran smack into him. He snarled and looked down, eyes narrowing at the small lizard demon trembling beneath him. Their eyes were wide with terror, their little body trembling, though the way they were twitching and their pupils were dilated that could have just been drugs. He widened his smile a bit, one of his ears flicking in irritation. "Can I _help_ you?"

The demon stared at him a moment, panicked and hyperventilating, before promptly keeling over and vomiting on Alastor's shoes.

Alastor felt rage swell up within him, felt the static in his eyes as the crackle of power filled the air. How _dare_ they? Who did this sorry excuse of a demon think they were to show him, of all people, such disrespect? To their credit, the demon seemed to realize their mistake immediately. They began begging for their life, their expression rightly horrified at their own actions. "I-I'm so sorry, A-alastor, Mr. radio demon sir, please don't hurt me, p-please it was an accident I would _never_-"

Alastor blinked, the static and power dissipating in an instant. This was not the time or place to cause a scene, he knew that. Openly attacking someone could easily get back to Charlie, and the last thing he needed was her putting a stop to his little game. Instead he smiled, waving the demon off. "Oh don't work yourself into such a tizzy! Of _course_ I won't hurt you!"

The demon stopped, looking dumbstruck for a moment before they spoke. "You're not? But… but your _shoes_…"

"Bygones, I assure you!" Alastor grinned, patting them on the shoulder. "They're just shoes, after all! Now, why don't you run off before you bump into someone less _forgiving_, hm?"

The demon nodded, relief washing over their features before they took off down a nearby alleyway. Alastor waited a moment, listening to the footsteps before his grin turned sadistic. Now, _openly_ attacking the offender was off the table, but he had other options. He snapped his fingers and his shadow took off after them, a piercing scream cutting through the air only seconds later. Alastor glanced towards the alley, his wide grin replaced with a pleased smirk. "Of course, they were my _favorite_ shoes."

He looked back to the club, his smile coming easier now. That was just what he needed, a little carnage to lift his spirits. It was amazing how such a small show of power set his mind at ease. What in the world did he have to be worried about? If he truly felt incensed after stepping inside, he could simply tear the place down. No one would stop him, not with his reputation.

He strode into the club before he gave himself a chance to overthink it. The assault on his senses was immediate. The flashing lights, the thumping music, the half naked bodies, the _fully_ naked bodies, the stench of drugs and sweat and other things that were certainly present but Alastor pointedly chose to ignore, why anyone would _willingly_ choose to subject themselves to this was beyond him. He would damn Molly for forcing him here, damn her terrible taste and apparent need to party, but considering where they were that had clearly already been done.

He squinted in the disorienting combination of darkness and flashing lights, peering through the moving crowd that surrounded him. Now, if Molly were here to continue her drinking binge, chances were she wouldn't stray too far from the bar. So if he could locate the bar…

A flash of white and pink curls caught his attention. That big hair was unmistakable. He wove his way through the crowd, careful to both refrain from touching absolutely anyone and to not lose sight of his target. A few careful steps later and he was out of the crowd, making a beeline towards Molly. She sat on a stool, her face planted squarely on the bar, while Cherri Bomb gently patted her back. Alastor didn't have the slightest idea what was going on with either of them, but then again he didn't care overly much.

"Molly! Fancy finding you here!" He had to raise his voice more than usual to cut through the deafening music, and even then he wasn't sure that she would hear him.

Well, at least _someone_ heard him, because Cherri Bomb turned to face him so quickly he was surprised her neck didn't snap on the spot. Honestly, he wished it had. She was the last person he wanted to deal with. "The fuck are _you_ doing here?"

"Oh, just checking on a friend." He rested his arm on the bar, leaning down a bit to try and see Molly's face. "My dear, you look a little under the weather this evening! What has you down?" Call him crazy, but with the way her shoulders were shaking it looked almost as if she were crying.

Cherri Bomb narrowed her eye at him in a glare, standing up and crossing her arms. "Can't you see we're busy? Get lost or get wrecked, dipshit."

Alastor blinked, taken aback. Clearly she didn't know who he was. Ordinarily that would be something he would have to correct through action, maybe even a broadcast, but he didn't need to scare Molly into silence. No, a more diplomatic approach was needed this time around. He could always exact some vengeance later, when she was alone. "Excuse me, but I think there's been a mistake. You see, I'm-"

"Oh I know who you are, _radio demon_," she snarled. Okay, so maybe she wasn't _totally_ ignorant, but either she was missing some pieces or she had a death wish. "I don't care how strong you are, and I don't care if your Angie's new fling. You stay the fuck away from him, and you stay the fuck away from Molly, or I'm gonna blow you sky high." Ah, so it was death wish then.

"I am certainly _not_ that harlots 'new fling'," Alastor said, his grin twitching ever so slightly. "I am simply here for some information, then I'll be on my way."

"Oh yeah? What _kind_ of information?" Cherri asked, raising her brow.

"Angel Dust had what I believe you would call a 'freak out'," Alastor said, making air quotes with his fingers. "I'm not sure what happened, but after our little visit and a nap he threw a tantrum. I was hoping to get some information as to _why_."

Her expression once again turned to a glare. "Angie doesn't just 'freak out' for no reason," she growled. "You _did_ something to him, didn't you? I swear to fuck if you touched _one hair_ on his pretty little head I'm gonna-"

She stopped, interrupted when Molly grabbed her wrist. The spider demon looked up at her with big, tear filled eyes, sniffling as she spoke. "No, no Cherri, I told ya, this is _my_ fault, he didn't do anything."

Alastor cocked a brow. "Molly, how could this be _your_ fault? You weren't even there."

"It was the _house_," she croaked. "Seein' the house, an' daddy, an' _me_, that upset him, it _had_ to."

"Molly, it wasn't your fault," Cherri assured, rubbing her shoulder. Her tone softened, as did her expression. The whole scene reminded him very much of Charlie in Vaggie, which had some interesting implications. Although he didn't care much about whatever may be going on between these two, he bet Angel Dust would. Maybe he could use that.

"Don't'chu tell me it wasn't my fault, we both know damn well it was!" Molly snapped, pulling away from the touch with a glare. "If I hadn't brought him back he never would've died!"

Well, now, this was interesting. Alastor tilted his head to the side, his smile inquisitive. "I feel as if I'm missing some vital information here."

"Oh like you don't know," Molly sniffed. "I _know_ he's sweet on you, there's no way he hasn't told you all about how I got him killed."

Alastor felt his eye twitch in annoyance. Why she was so insistent Angel Dust was fond of him was beyond him. If anything, the two absolutely despised each other. "I have no idea what you're talking about, in _both_ regards."

"Oh sure you don't," she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "I'm sure he hasn't told you aaaaaall about how I was a dumbass, how I brought him home even though it was a bad idea, how daddy _shot him_, I'm sure you don't know a thing about it."

"Molly, it _wasn't_ your fault," Cherri insisted.

Molly's eyes began to well up with tears once again, threatening to spill over as her voice wavered. "The _woods,_ Cherri, we dumped him in the woods! I didn't even give him a damn funeral, how is that _not_ my fault?"

Alastor's eyes widened. _Oh._ Well that certainly explained some things. "I assure you, I wasn't aware of _any_ of that."

"Well you are now," Cherri Bomb snapped, shooting him a glare. "You gonna leave us alone or what? Because last time I checked this isn't any of your goddamn business."

Alastor's grin sharpened, his eyes narrowing. Important task or no, this friend of theirs was trying his patience. "I would _hold your tongue_, or-"

Cherri Bomb cut him off with the unthinkable. She grabbed him, spun him around, put a hand on each of his shoulders, and pushed him right out of the club. He should have turned on her, should have torn her limbs off one by one, should have gouged her eye out and made her eat it, but he was so startled that he simply stood stiff as a board with a lost expression. Before he could even formulate how to react he was once again outside the club's doors, free from the strobe lights and tasteless music. Once they were out he felt her give him a solid shove and he stumbled forward, turning back to glare at her with what he could only assume was a downright murderous expression. "Oh you're going to _regret that_." His voice distorted near the end, filled with every ounce of crackling fury he felt in that moment.

"Oh bullshit, you're not gonna do anything to threaten your little hotel gig," Cherri Bomb snapped. "Can't risk pissing Charlie off or you won't be able to pick on Angie anymore."

Alastor stopped, narrowing his eyes in a glare. Unfortunately, she wasn't wrong. That being said, he had been careful to cover his tracks when it came to Angel Dust, so how she had figured it out after only just meeting him was _highly_ suspect. "I'm _sure_ I don't know what you mean."

"Oh, are you now?" Cherri asked, putting her hands on her hips. "Because _I'm_ sure I know my best friend, and he'd _never_ willingly go back to that house. I don't know what you did, and I don't care, but if you don't lay the fuck off I will _personally_ snap the top off your radio tower and shove it so far up your ass you taste music."

"You're threatening _me_, of all people?" Alastor asked. He wanted to be mad, he really did, but really he was surprised. Did she have a brain? If she did, was it even _functional_, or just vestigial?

"You're damn right I am." She jabbed a finger at him with a scowl. "I don't care how strong you are, I don't care that Angie likes you, I don't care that _Molly_ likes you, _I_ don't like you and you're just going to have to fucking deal with it. She might trust you, she might think you're good for him, but the way I see it he just traded Val for you and that's not what he needs right now, capiche?"

Alastor waved her finger away in annoyance. "He hasn't traded Valentino for _anyone_. We are not an item, have never been an item, will never _be_ an item. Why you two seem to insist otherwise is beyond me. And even if we were, which we are not, what exactly does that _mean_? Angel Dust and Valentino get on like a house on fire."

"Yeah, in the worst kind of way," Cherri Bomb huffed. "Look, why don't you just leave? I have a miserable drunk to deal with, you got… whatever you have going on, I'm sure, and you clearly don't want to be here. You got your information, so go."

"I don't need you telling me when to leave," Alastor said. "..._that being said, _I do think it's about time I left. Of my own accord." As much as he wanted to stay, wanted to either annoy her endlessly, tear her apart, or go the extra mile and do both, she had given him quite a bit to consider. Given what she said, it was possible he had misjudged Angel Dust and Valentino's relationship. But by how much? That was something he would have to look into.

"Yeah, sure you do," Cherri Bomb said. "Just keep this in mind. You might be ruthless, powerful, and overall terrifying, but if you do _anything_ to hurt him I will hunt you down and you _won't_ survive it."

"One of us won't, that's for sure," Alastor mused.

"Yeah, whatever." Cherri Bomb shoved her hands into her pockets and made her way back into the club, muttering to herself the entire way. "Shady ass, creepy motherfucker, thinks he owns the whole damn place."

Well, she wasn't exactly _wrong_, save for on one front. He didn't _think_ he owned hell, he _knew_ he did. What was someone going to do, stand up to him? Stop him from wreaking havoc? He certainly didn't think so, not with his abilities. And now that she had caught his attention, once he was done with the hotel, Cherri Bomb would just be another corpse at the top of the pile.

He watched her for just a moment longer, contemplating how easy it would be to just dispose of her now, before he turned away towards the alley. It wasn't worth it, not with what he had so carefully built. The information he uncovered had been startling to say the least, but that wouldn't phase him. This little visit, the events over the past couple of days, they had changed nothing. He was going to evict Angel Dust if it killed the spider demon, and he was going to do it _without_ being bit this time. His father, his family, his _death_, that was clearly a trigger to avoid. No, he would just have to be more creative from now on.

As he strolled down the alley, his hands folded behind his back, he passed the strewn about remains of a rather pitiful looking lizard demon. They were regenerating, as demons did, but with the pieces as small as they were it wouldn't be for a while. He smirked as bones crunched under his shoes, as fantasies of Cherri Bomb meeting a similar fate in the not so distant future flickered through his mind. Just another corpse on the pile indeed.


	15. Chapter 15: Cornered

It was day seven, and Angel Dust was even more on edge than usual. He had gone through withdrawal before, it was never a pleasant experience, but this was a special kind of hell. The shakes, the shivers, the nausea, the fatigue, it had been going on for two days now and he just wished it would all stop. If he were alive he would pray for death, but he knew damn well he couldn't die down here. No, he would just have to wait it out. He knew it would be over in a week or so, it always was, so at least he had that. The nice thing about going through this bullshit before was that he knew exactly what to expect. The shakes would keep up for a few days, give him vertigo, he'd probably get a fever and start sweating, sleeping was out of the question, he'd be pretty bitchy, and if he were really unlucky he'd have a seizure or two. Sure it was a bitch to go through, but it _would_ end. That was what mattered.

He reminded himself of that as he washed his face, splashing himself with ice cold water. Anything to wake his ass up after three straight nights of restless sleep. He'd be damned if he showed Alastor a _speck_ of weakness. He blindly reached for the towel to pat himself dry, eyes squinted shut as he rubbed the soft fabric over his fur. At least he was somewhere safe this time. The hotel was a lot of things, but dangerous wasn't one of them. Even Alastor couldn't touch him with Charlie hanging around, so as long as he didn't try anything too sneaky Angel Dust would be in the clear. Normally he'd say sneaky was definitely on the table, but ever since he loaded Alastor up with enough venom to take down a small elephant he'd been keeping his distance.

Good riddance, honestly. And to think, he used to think that guy was hot. Now at least he knew better, knew he was about as hot as a damn garbage fire.

He finished drying himself off and glanced at the mirror to assess the damage. No doubt his fur was an absolute mess with the way he'd been tossing and turning. However, what he saw made his heart stop and his fur stand on end. Behind him was a familiar moth demon, wearing his signature heart sunglasses and his fur-trimmed red coat. His pointed teeth were exposed in a venomous grin, one that sent shivers down Angel Dust's spine.

"Angie baby, you wanna explain what you're doin' here?"

Angel Dust felt panic seize him. No, no this couldn't be happening. He was in the hotel, he was _safe_. Or, at least, he was supposed to be. Clearly he was mistaken, and it was time to backpedal like his life depended on it.

"Val! H-heeeey there, I didn't-" He turned to face the pimp, his lips twisted in a nervous smile, but he froze when he came face to face with thin air. No one was there, no Valentino, no danger.

He was alone.

"What the fuck." He ran a hand through his hair, desperately trying to slow his ragged breathing. "What the _fuck?_" Valentino had _just_ been there. He knew it, he saw him, he heard him. Was he going crazy? He sure was starting to feel like it.

A knock on his door made him jump, startling him in his panicked state. "Angel Dust, are you decent? I know it's early, but I made breakfast!" For once he was so happy to hear Charlie's voice on the other end of that door. Something he _knew_ was real.

"Toots, I'm _never_ decent." He could have lived without his voice wavering as badly as it did, but considering how tight his chest was he was willing to cut himself a break.

"Ha, ha ha, very funny." The sarcasm in her voice was enough to bring him a small smile, helping him relax a little. "Come down when you're ready, we already have the table set."

"Yeah, yeah be down in a sec." Angel Dust rubbed his face, taking a deep breath. Okay. There had to be an explanation for what had just happened. Valentino was there, so then where the fuck did he go? If he didn't know any better he'd say it was a withdrawal-induced hallucination, but he _did _know better because he had never hallucinated from withdrawal. He knew people who had, but he wasn't one of them.

Then again, he had never gone through withdrawal in this body before.

Fuck, okay, it was probably a hallucination.

With the realization came security. If it wasn't real, it meant Valentino still had no way to get ahold of him. That was probably best, Angel Dust didn't think he could handle his pimp's special "punishment" on top of everything else he was going through. If it were a hallucination, if he _knew_ it was a hallucination, he could handle it. It was just one more thing he had to deal with to get out of that studio forever. He took one last deep breath, steeling himself against the day to come. He was Angel Dust for fuck's sake. If he could handle the _real_ Valentino, he could definitely handle a fake-ass wannabe hallucination. Piece o' cake. Hell, if he didn't react, no one would even know what was happening.

With that he stepped out of his room, feeling much more prepared despite the fact nothing had changed. It was amazing what a little pep talk could do to raise his confidence, even while he suffered the worst of the withdrawal symptoms. When he strolled into the dining room, everyone else was already seated. Even Niffty had joined them rather than running around the kitchen like a chicken with her head cut off. If he had to guess, he'd say Charlie probably did all the clean up work to give the little monster a break. She was nice like that. The table was set like some kind of fancy, not practically empty hotel, with pancakes stacked high on serving platters and all the toppings he could ever want. It looked like absolute heaven.

Too bad he was feeling too queasy to eat it.

But, hey, no one had to know that. He'd put some food on his plate, push it around a bit, and they'd be none the wiser. He took a seat next to Husker, placing his elbow on the table and resting his cheek in his palm. He gave the cat demon a suggestive smile and waggled his brows with a wink. "Hey there, hot stuff, you come here often?"

"Go die in a dumpster fire," Husker growled. Though, unlike usual, his fur didn't puff up and there was less malice in his tone than there had been before. Hey, would you look at that, making friends with Husker really _did_ have benefits.

"Well aren't you just a charmer today." Angel Dust glanced at the various beverages laid out before him. "Hey, I'm cravin' hot chocolate something awful. We got any?"

"Oh, I didn't even think to make it!" Charlie stood from her seat, giving him an apologetic smile. "I'll go fix some for you, okay?"

"Oh I _hardly_ think that's necessary." Of _course_ Alastor had to butt in with his useless-ass opinions. Angel Dust shot him a glare, only to be met with a malicious smile. "I think he'll survive without it. There's hardly any need for you to inconvenience yourself to spoil the likes of him."

Much to Angel Dust's surprise, Charlie shot him a pretty nasty look of her own. Well, as nasty as Charlie got, anyway. In reality it was more of slightly disapproving, like a disappointed mom with a particularly moody toddler. "It's just hot chocolate, Alastor, it's not spoiling him."

Angel Dust sighed, waving her off. "No, no. As much as I hate to agree with Al, I really don't need it. I'll just have like, coffee or some shit."

"Are you sure?" Charlie eyed Alastor a moment before looking to Angel Dust. Was that suspicion he saw? "Because it's really no trouble."

"Yeah, yeah I'm sure." Angel Dust grabbed the coffee pot and poured some into his mug. "Coffee is just as good. Fuck, with the caffine it's even better."

"Well, okay, if you're sure." Charlie sat back down, taking a few pancakes with her fork and putting them on her plate.

"Wow, _you_ passin' up somethin' bein' handed ta ya? Never saw _that_ comin'."

Angel Dust froze, his eyes going wide. He knew that voice. He glanced over Charlie's shoulder, shocked to find his brother standing there behind her. Angel Dust had only seen him a couple of times since coming to hell, but apparently that had been enough. He was much shorter than Angel Dust, his grey fur and red eyes a sharp contrast to his own soft appearance. He narrowed his many eyes and sneered, his words sounding far too real for Angel Dust's liking. "What? Ya look like you just seen a ghost. Quit gawkin' ya fuckin' limp wrist."

No, no it _wasn't_ real. He had to remind himself of that. Archie, _Arackniss_, he wasn't there. No one else reacted to him speaking, so he couldn't be. Angel Dust just had to remember that and ignore him. The last thing he needed was anyone else noticing. He cleared his throat before grabbing his fork and grabbing a pancake, doing his best to keep his breathing even.

Arackniss glared at him, putting all six hands on his hips. "Oh, what, so now you're just gonna ignore me? Your own flesh an' blood?"

"So, Charlie!" Angel Dust prayed the panic in his voice wasn't too obvious. He wasn't sure who he was praying to, but he sure as fuck hoped they were listening. "These pancakes smell pretty good. Gotta say, havin' breakfast like this is a real treat."

"Oh, thank you, Angel Dust!" She gave him the sweetest little smile. "I just thought everyone could use a nice morning. I know things have been a bit tense lately, but they'll get better and this is where it starts!"

"Oh God, is she always this optimistic?" Arackness twirled his finger by his forehead. "Sounds like this one is fuckin' bonkers if ya ask me. I don't know how ya put up with it."

"Yeah, well, it's definitely appreciated." Angel Dust cut his pancake into little squares, his hands shaking the entire time. All he had to do was ignore it. It wasn't real, it didn't matter, it would pass.

"I can't tell you how glad I am to hear that," Charlie said. "Especially with the day we have planned! I was thinking we could try some new activities today, something to act as a healthy outlet for you."

"Ya know, if you keep ignorin' me, I'm gonna have'ta tell pops and he is _not_ gonna like that, let me tell ya." Arackniss crossed his arms, glaring at Angel Dust. "Honestly, how fuckin' rude do ya gotta be? Maybe I need to go on over there and put ya in your place."

Angel Dust slammed his fork down on the table, glaring at the apparition before him. "And just what the fuck is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Wha- nothing!" Charlie put her hands up in defense, looking confused as hell. But she wasn't the one Angel Dust was focused on. No, his eyes were trained on the asshole behind her.

"Oh I think you know _exactly_ what it means," Arackniss snarled. "We killed your ass once, we both know we can do it again. You wanna take that chance?"

Angel Dust felt his blood run cold. No, no he did not want to take that chance. He stood so fast his chair clattered backwards, everyone else looking at him in confusion, but they didn't matter. Not now. "You can't do that! I'm stronger now, we're _immortal!_ If you think I'm goin' down without a fight you're dead wrong!" He hoped his words would mask his fear, but he knew they wouldn't.

Charlie stood, blocking his view of Arackniss. "Angel Dust, what's happening? Who are you talking to?"

"Charlie, I am not here for your fuckin' bullshit today!" Angel Dust snarled. His fur was standing on end, the scent of rancid, burning sugar filling the air. Rationally he knew he had to calm down, knew he shouldn't let them see him like this, but for the moment he didn't care. For the moment all he knew was fear and pain.

"Oh, so now you're bein' rude ta her, too? I _know_ ma didn't raise ya like that," Arackniss snorted, leaning to peek at Angel Dust from behind Charlie's shoulder. "Then again, guess she didn't have much of a chance to do much with ya before she kicked it, so I guess ya get a pass this time."

"You just shut the fuck up!" Angel Dust screamed.

"Oh like you can make me," Arackniss sneered. "You've always been such a fuckin pansy. No wonder the family kicked ya out. Fuck, I'm sorry I didn't shoot'ya myself."

Angel Dust felt tears sting at his eyes. Between his brother and everyone at the table watching him, he felt cornered. No, no he couldn't do this, he needed out. He needed _air_. He took off running, out of the dining room and towards the lobby doors. If he could just get outside, if he could _breathe_, it would give him a chance to think.

"That's right, Angel cakes, run outside." Valentino was waiting for him beside the door, leaning against the frame with a smirk. "The sooner you break your little deal, the sooner we can get back to business."

Angel Dust stopped and scrambled back, eyes widening. Fuck, that was right, he couldn't leave the hotel. Not without risking breaking his end, and he couldn't do that. Not when there was so much at stake. But he couldn't stay here, couldn't stay trapped like this, or he was going to fucking lose it. Hell, he was starting to already.

Wait, the roof. The roof was still part of the hotel, right? He couldn't get in trouble for that. He took to the stairs, making it about halfway up one flight before a wave of nausea and dizziness hit him like a brick to the face. Fuck, _fuck_, okay, no stairs. No stairs, but he still needed to get to the roof. And, from the sound of arguing coming from the dining room, he needed to do it quick. From what he could hear someone was telling someone else to come get him, and he sure as fuck didn't need that.

Hold the fuck up, didn't this hotel have an elevator? He distinctly remembered Charlie showing him an elevator, said it was for accessibility or some shit. It was nothing he had cared about before, but he sure as fuck was glad he knew about it now. He made a beeline for the center corridor, hoping that he was right and it was where he remembered. His heart leapt as he saw the sleek silver doors, relief washing over him. Okay, he found the elevator, now all he had to do was get in and go. He stopped at the doors, pressing the "up" button.

"Angel Dust? Angel Dust where do you think you're going?"

Oh fuck, oh no. That was definitely Alastor. Angel Dust wasn't sure if the voice was real or not, but he decided it didn't really matter. He jammed his finger into the button over and over again, as if that would make the doors open faster. What the fuck was making the damn thing take so long? He felt his panic overwhelm him when he heard the telltale radio static coming towards him, getting louder with each footstep. Did the bastard always have to walk so damn loud? Angel Dust swore he wore tap shoes or some shit.

"And just _what_ do you think you're doing?"

Angel Dust glanced towards the end of the hall, spotting Alastor as he made his way over. "Fuck off ya strawberry freak!" He could taste the venom filling his mouth, could taste the sickly sweet liquid on his tongue.

Alastor narrowed his eyes. "Now, Angel Dust, there's no need to be so rude."

"_Honestly, how fuckin' rude do ya gotta be? Maybe I need to go on over there and put ya in your place."_

Angel Dust peeled back his lips, baring his fangs with a hiss. No chucklefuck hallucination was gonna get the best of _him_. In that moment he was sure Alastor was indeed a hallucination, why else would he actually stop at the threat? Why else would his ears twitch, the barest hint of fear taking over his expression? "I swear to everything un-fuckin'-holy if you don't back off I'm gonna-"

_Ding_.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft squeak, pulling his attention away from the radio demon. He darted in, smacking the button to the top floor before pressing himself against the back wall of the car. Finally, _finally_ he could get away. Finally he could go up and get some damn air, and no one was going to stop him. He waited, slowly letting himself relax the smallest bit as he watched the door close. However, his ease was shattered when a red gloved hand grabbed one of the doors, forcing it back open. Alastor stepped into view, his eyes narrowed and his grin as murderous as the look in his eyes.

"Now _Angel Dust_," he said, his words dripping with malice, "I'm going to count to three, and by the end of it you are going to get _off_ this elevator, and you are going to get _back_ to the dining room to appease our fellow residents. Do you understand me?"

Angel Dust hissed again, pressing himself into the corner in desperation and letting out a furious shriek. "YOU GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME YOU SUNNOVAH BITCH!"

"Oh, I see, so we're doing this the _hard way_ are we." Alastor stepped into the elevator, smile wavering the slightest bit. "Fine. If you won't come willingly, then I'll just _drag you_." His voice dropped an octave at the end, his eyes turning to radio dials. Oh no, oh _fuck_ no, Angel Dust knew that look. That was the "time for murder and mayhem" look. Well fuck that shit, he sure as hell wasn't getting murdered today. He lunged for Alastor, ready to bite him and pump him so full of venom that he would be out for the next week, but he was forced back as Alastor shoved his microphone into his maw and pushed him back into the corner.

"Oh no, I'm not falling for _that_ again," Alastor growled. Angel Dust gagged as the microphone hit the back of his throat, making him pull away with a violent cough. He fell back against the wall as he gasped for air, tears stinging his eyes as Alastor stood over him. "_Better_. Now, are you going to go back like a good little hellion, or am I going to have to carry you?"

Angel Dust opened his mouth to tell him to go fuck himself, but only a raspy squeak came out. Not that his answer mattered anyway, not when he saw the doors slide close. Alastor's ear flicked when he heard them shut, spinning around with wide eyes. Angel Dust couldn't help but smirk with a feeling of accomplishment. Ha! Despite it all, he still got to go up to the roof. Look at him go.

Alastor turned back to him, his smile strained and twitching. "Is there a _reason_ we're going to the top floor?" Angel Dust simply flipped him off, offering a strained grin of his own. He didn't have to explain himself to this clown. Alastor sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, setting his microphone stand on the ground. "_Fine_. I suppose we're stuck in here. But we are going right back down, and you are going to go to the table and eat your breakfast even if it kills you."

That's what Alastor thought. Little did he know, Angel Dust was making a break for it the second those doors opened. He wanted the roof, so damn it he was going to the roof and nothing was stopping him. Not Alastor, not Charlie, not hallucinations, _nothing_. Just as he was planning his escape route, however, he felt the elevator shudder and stop. He glanced up, excepting the doors to open, but they stayed closed. The lights flickered briefly before going out, the sound of the car powering down making his fur stand on end.

Fuck, okay, maybe _one_ thing could stop him. If the car stopped moving, he sure as fuck wasn't getting up to the roof. He wouldn't be going _anywhere_. Then a thought occurred to him, if he couldn't get out, neither could Alastor. They were both trapped, alone, in the dark, hovering in a little box who knew how high off the ground. He could try to stay calm all he wanted, but he already felt himself begin to panic. He felt as if he couldn't breathe, as if the car were somehow getting smaller, the walls closing in on him.

He barely registered the sound of Alastor muttering to himself, strategizing how they were going to escape. Angel Dust shattered his musing with a cry, banging his fists against the wall. "Hey! Hey, help, someone help! Charlie, Husker, Niffty, Vaggie, someone get your ass over here and get me out!"

"Angel Dust!" Alastor scolded. "Now is hardly the time for-"

"YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Angel Dust screamed. He turned and pressed his back to the wall, sinking down to the floor with a sob. He couldn't take this, not now. His body trembled as he struggled and failed to take a deep breath, his unease making his heart pound. It was too much, he couldn't calm down. He just prayed that someone came and got him soon, rescued him before he snapped. Otherwise, one of them might not walk away from this breathing.


	16. Chapter 16: Unfamiliar Feelings

**A/N:** Hey all! I know I don't normally leave a lot of notes, but this one is special! I'm doing a livestream tonight at 5pm est, you can catch it here! .tv/whysoseven For more info, you can take a look at my twitter /WhySoSeven

* * *

"Charlie, I am not here for your fuckin' bullshit today!"

It was chaos as Alastor stared at the absolute mess of a man before him. It was like the other night all over again, save this was completely unprovoked. Angel Dust's eyes were wild, his fur standing on end and teeth bared at something behind Charlie, something no one else at the table could see. The room reeked of burning sugar and decay, so much so that it made Alastor's eyes water. The source was easy enough to spot, it was once again seeping from the brightly colored spots in Angel Dust's fur. If Alastor hadn't known better, he would have said the spider demon was hallucinating.

"You just shut the fuck up!" Angel Dust screamed at no one in particular, tears welling up in his eyes.

_Oh_. Wait. That actually made sense. Withdrawal had no doubt begun to take hold, and that was certainly on the list of possible symptoms. Or, at least, so Alastor had heard. He of course had never experienced it himself. Angel Dust, on the other hand, seemed deep in the throws of it. The pain in his eyes was nearly as palpable as the horrid stench he was giving off.

And then, without warning, he took off. The room sat in stunned silence for a moment, each of them attempting to process what had just happened. Husker was the first to speak, pulling everyone's attention from the chair toppled over on the floor.

"What. The _fuck_. Was that."

"That's a really good question," Charlie said slowly, eyes examining the doorway from which Angel Dust had fled.

Vaggie stood beside her, looking somewhat shaken. "Was it just me, or was he acting _psychotic_?"

"In the most literal of senses," Alastor chimed. He took a sip from his mug as soft radio chatter filled the air, quickly deciding that the situation was far beneath him.

After a moment's pause Charlie pushed her chair out, determination taking over her features. "I'm going after him."

Alastor chuckled, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "Oh, I wouldn't do that if I were you. He's more formidable than you realize." Of course, Angel Dust was nothing either himself or Charlie couldn't handle. Hell, even Vaggie had a decent shot. That being said, he didn't need Charlie interfering. There was a chance that, in his stupor, Angel Dust would actually _leave_ the hotel. That was certainly against house arrest rules and, as far as Alastor was concerned, would count as an instant loss.

"I'm sure I can handle him," Charlie assured.

"I beg to differ, my dear," Alastor insisted. "He could pull out any number of surprises to best you. For instance, did you know he's _venomous_?" Husker raised a brow at that, which Alastor pointedly ignored.

However, despite any suspicion he may have raised, his ploy seemed to have worked. Doubt clouded Charlie's expression, her brow furrowing and lips pursing. "Well… no, no I didn't."

"Precisely my point," Alastor grinned. "Why, who _knows_ what other deadly secrets he could be hiding."

Support for his ruse came from the most unexpected of places. Vaggie placed a hand on Charlie's arm, her expression soft. "He has a point, hun. We don't know what could happen."

Alastor's grin sharpened. Oh, how _perfect_. Charlie wouldn't disagree with her lover. If he snared one, then he had them both. "_Exactly_. Thank you, Vaggie, for-"

"That's why _Alastor_ should go after him."

A record scratch filled the room, A;astor's eyes briefly crackling with static. "Pardon?"

Husker scrunched up his nose. "That's a fuckin' _terrible_ idea."

"Is it though?" Vaggie put her hands on her hips. "Alastor is too powerful to just 'get hurt'. Plus, Angel Dust is _his_ responsibility. He _volunteered_ for this."

"You have a point," Charlie mused.

"Does she _really_ though?" Alastor asked. "Because I don't see how this could _possibly_ end well."

"And why not?" Charlie asked, her eyes narrowing. "The only way it would end badly was if you were planning on hurting him, and I _know_ you're not doing that, _right?_"

As angry as Alastor was, he had to admit she had turned the tables on him. He couldn't have done it any better himself, though he would never admit that out loud. His smile faltered the smallest bit, his eye twitching. "Oh, I wouldn't _dream_ of it."

"Good." Charlie sat back in her seat, keeping her eyes on him. Her suspicion was quickly getting old. "Now, go bring him back. _Calmly_."

"But of course." Alastor stood, sending a glare towards Vaggie the second Charlie wasn't looking. If that little trouble maker had just kept her mouth shut, none of this would have happened.

Well, no use dwelling on that now. He was really only left with one option, as irritating as it was, and the sooner he got to it the sooner it would be over with. He stepped out of the dining room, eyes immediately drawn to Angel Dust darting _away_ from the front doors and down a hallway near the staircase.. Alastor felt his ear flick in annoyance. Well, so much for that idea. "Angel Dust? Angel Dust where do you think you're going?"

He moved to follow him down the hallway, raising a brow as he glanced at the decor. Odd, he'd never been down this way before. His brows arched when he saw Angel Dust jamming his finger into what looked like an elevator call button as if he were in one of his cheap, tasteless, lewd films. "And just _what_ do you think you're doing?"

Angel Dust turned to face him, his voice filled with fear and panic. "Fuck off ya strawberry freak!"

Alastor narrowed his eyes. "Now, Angel Dust, there's no need to be so rude."

Alastor could not have possibly predicted the reaction those words would incite. Angel Dust pupils dilated to barely visible pinpoints, his fur standing on end. He peeled back his lips, baring his teeth with a hiss. Alastor could clearly see the venom dripping from his fangs, and the wild look in his eyes told him that Angel Dust was not afraid to unleash absolute hell if need be. Alastor felt his ears give the slightest flick, felt his nose twitch, felt the unfamiliar sensation of fear grip his very soul for the briefest of moments. It was then that he was no longer Alastor, was no longer the feared radio demon, but a prey animal facing a predator primed to attack. "I swear to everything un-fuckin'-holy if you don't back off I'm gonna-"

_Ding_.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft squeak, snapping him from his stupor and pulling his attention towards the sound. Angel Dust darted inside the second the doors opened, smacking the button to the top floor before pressing himself against the back wall of the car. Alastor stood gobsmacked for a moment, floored by the events that had just taken place. What was that? What had just happened? He didn't feel fear, he hadn't in _decades_, not since his death. The sensation was quickly replaced with fury, his eyes turning to dials. Oh, oh no, Angel Dust was going to pay for that and pay _dearly_. The doors of the elevator began to close, but Alastor wasn't about to let his ward slip away that easily. He grabbed the door with a red gloved hand and forced it back open, his eyes narrowed and voice crackling with static.

"Now _Angel Dust_," he said, his words dripping with malice, "I'm going to count to three, and by the end of it you are going to get _off_ this elevator, and you are going to get _back_ to the dining room to appease our fellow residents. Do you understand me?"

Angel Dust hissed again, pressing himself into the corner and letting out a furious shriek. Now it was _his_ turn to be terrified. "YOU GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME YOU SUNNOVAH BITCH!"

"Oh, I see, so we're doing this the _hard way_ are we." Alastor stepped into the elevator, smile wavering the slightest bit. "Fine. If you won't come willingly, then I'll just _drag you_." His voice dropped an octave at the end, his eyes filling with static. Angel Dust's eyes widened in terror, his body trembling. Good, he _should_ be scared. He'd certainly earned it. However, in the blink of an eye, his demeanor changed. His eyes narrowed and he snarled, lunging forward with clear intentions of delivering a toxic bite. Alastor didn't even think, his only motivation a driving fear of that venom when he thrusted the end of his microphone forward. His aim was impeccable, the end of the microphone going straight into Angel Dust's maw and driving him backwards.

"Oh no, I'm not falling for _that_ again," Alastor growled. Angel Dust gagged and pulled away with a violent cough, looking up at Alastor with tears welled up in his eyes. Alastor stepped forward to loom over him, tilting his head to the side with a murderous grin. This was more like it, this was the dynamic he was used to. "_Better_. Now, are you going to go back like a good little hellion, or am I going to have to carry you?"

Angel Dust opened his mouth to respond, but only a raspy squeak came out. Not that Alastor _wanted_ a response out of him. However the silence made way for a new sound, the sound of elevator doors closing behind him. His ear flicked at the soft _thump_ as he spun around with wide eyes. Well wasn't that just _inconvenient_.

Alastor turned back to Angel Dust, his smile forced and twitching. "Is there a _reason_ we're going to the top floor?" Angel Dust simply flipped him off, offering a strained grin of his own. It would seem he had no intention of explaining himself. Alastor sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, setting his microphone stand on the ground. "_Fine_. I suppose we're stuck in here. But we are going right back down, and you are going to go to the table and eat your breakfast even if it kills you." Maybe Alastor would get lucky and it _would_ kill him. That would be nice.

Just then, he felt the elevator shudder and stop. He glanced up, excepting the doors to open, but they stayed closed. The lights flickered briefly before going out, the sound of the car powering down echoing in the space around them.

Oh dear.

Okay, so they were no longer moving. It wasn't ideal, but it wasn't the end of the world, either. Alastor was sure that if he just gave it a little thought, they would be out in absolutely no time at all. Yes, then he could sit Angel Dust down at the table, Charlie could stop her complaining, and all would be well. He rubbed his chin, glancing at the walls of the car as he muttered under his breath. "Let's see… if it's powered down, I could-"

His musings were interrupted, quite rudely might he add, by a sharp cry. Angel Dust was frantic, banging his fists against the wall. "Hey! Hey, help, someone help! Charlie, Husker, Niffty, Vaggie, someone get your ass over here and get me out!"

"Angel Dust!" Alastor scolded. "Now is hardly the time for-"

"YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Angel Dust screamed. He turned and pressed his back to the wall, sinking down to the floor with a sob. His body trembled as if he were struggling to breathe, his fur standing on end.

Hm. It would seem as if the situation just got a little more precarious. That being said, there was a fairly easy solution. "Alright, I see this isn't going to work out with us both in here." Alastor turned to the doors, sigils dancing around his head as he contemplated his next move. "I'll go first, and we'll come back and figure out a way to get you out as well. Sound fair?"

The smell hit him before anything else. If he thought the stench of Angel Dust's distress was unbearable before, it was nothing compared to now. It hit him like a brick to the face, making his eyes water and his head spin. This was somehow _worse_ than the venom, at least the bite didn't make him choke for air. Next he heard Angel Dust's voice, pleading and softer than he ever thought possible.

"You're… you're just gonna leave me in here? _Alone?_"

Alastor looked back at him, startled to find two pleading, pink, tear-filled irises staring up at him. Angel Dust looked _betrayed_ of all things. Alastor straightened his lapel, doing his best to ignore the fog that began to fill his head. "Are you saying you would rather be trapped here _with_ me?"

"I don't, _fuck_ I don't know." Angel Dust buried his face in his knees, taking a shaky breath that turned to a broken sob. Alastor's chest tightened at the sound, much to his annoyance. "Just, please, God _please_ don't leave me in here alone, please I don't think I can take it."

Alastor covered his nose, his smile twitching. Pleading or no, he didn't think staying much longer was in his best interest. "I understand your concerns, but I really _must_ be going." He turned back to the doors, doing his best to breathe through the smell.

"Wait, wait Alastor hold on!" Alastor heard Angel Dust stand, heard his heels tapping against the floor. "You don't gotta leave, please, I'll behave, I'll do whatever ya want, just _please_ don't leave me!"

"I'm afraid I can't stay, my dear." Alastor took a deep breath, only to end up coughing violently. His vision blurred as his head swam, making concentration impossible. Despite his attempts to summon the sigils back, to command his shadow, to do _anything_, nothing happened. After a moment his eyes widened in realization, his undead heart stopping in his chest. His abilities were paralyzed.

He was trapped.

"Now, okay, see I get where you're comin' from, but _consider_, okay, what if ya _didn't_ leave?" Angel Dust slid between Alastor and the doors, his thin frame hunched over and his smile both shaky and unconvincing. He was running his hands along the walls as if to feel his way forward, as if the darkness had rendered him blind. "See, cause, if ya stay, I'll do somethin' for ya, right? Something sexy- wait, no, you don't like sexy. Scratch that, somethin' _not_ sexy, somethin' super _super_ not sexy like, um, okay hold on I gotta think, uh…"

Alastor's eyes narrowed, his ear flicking in annoyance. This was so far beneath him, not even worth a second of his time. And, yet, he didn't really have any other options. After a moment he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Yes, okay, fine. You've convinced me, now stop your begging and go sit down."

Angel Dust's eyes practically lit up, his smile turning just a touch more genuine. "Wait, really? You'll stay? You're not gonna leave me in here?"

"Yes, now _go sit_ before I change my mind." Alastor growled, his grin tight. Much to his surprise his order was followed without question, with Angel Dust scrambling back to his corner and taking a seat. "Well aren't you feeling compliant all of a sudden."

"Yeah, well, hangin' precariously over a pit'o'death will do that to a guy," Angel Dust said, watching Alastor as he moved to take a seat in the opposite corner.

"Yes, I suppose that is quite the motivator," Alastor mused. He glanced around the car, looking for a way to air it out. "Of course, you can't actually _die_, so there's always that. Are there vents in here? Do you see any?"

"Uh, I think there's one in the ceiling." Angel Dust stood, easily reaching the ceiling of the car with his long, nimble arms. "Feels like it's closed, can't really see it too good though. What with it bein' dark an' all."

Alastor raised a brow. It looked as if his earlier assessment may have been correct. "I was under the impression most demons could see in the dark."

"Well if they can I'm not one of 'em," Angel Dust snorted. "What, you claimin' you can see right now?"

"Clear as day." Alastor looked up at the vent, disappointed to see that it was, in fact, closed. "There's a little lever to your right, perhaps that opens it."

"Hold on, lemme try." Angel Dust felt for it before grabbing the small protrusion and pushing it down, opening the folds of the vent with a soft creak. "There, did I get it?"

"Indeed you did, you can sit back down now." Hopefully that would air out the car enough for Alastor to escape soon, before Angel Dust got the chance to work himself up again.

Angel Dust reclaimed his seat, pulling his knees up to his chest and hugging them close. Alastor could still see the fear in his eyes, could still see the way he trembled in the darkness. Vent or no, he was well aware that the car wouldn't air out if Angel Dust didn't calm down. This was quite the predicament, given that Alastor didn't want to be there any longer than he had to. After a moment Alastor sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. So it was coming down to this, was it? "I can't help but notice that you seem _stressed_."

Angel Dust snorted, rolling his eyes. "Gee, ya think? What gave you that idea, Sherlock?" Despite his attitude his voice wavered. His breathing was slightly more ragged, his eyes darting around the darkness of the cabin and the fumes getting worse despite the vent. This wasn't good, he was starting to panic again.

"Let me finish," Alastor said, eye twitching ever so slightly. "Is there anything we can do to, I don't know, calm you _down_ perhaps?"

"Calm me down?" Angel Dust scrunched up his face a bit, then took a second to think. "Hm. Ya know, I don't know, I didn't think about it. Didn't think you'd be willing to try."

"Oh I don't see what harm it could do," Alastor said. "What about a game? Would _that_ help?"

"A game?" Alastor watched as he stopped to consider it, the action seeming to calm him the slightest bit. "Uh, yeah, sure, I guess. What did you have in mind? 'Cause I'm pretty sure you wouldn't like the types of games _I_ usually play."

"What in the world is _that_ supposed to mean?" Alastor asked.

Angel Dust shrugged. "Well, see, there's this version of Twister you can play, but you-"

"No, no, I've changed my mind," Alastor said, putting a hand up to stop him. "I've decided I don't want to know. Why don't we play something simple? Are you familiar with 20 questions?"

"What, you mean the world's worst road trip game?" Angel Dust snorted. "Yeah, I know how to play."

"Fantastic," Alastor said. "Why don't we just play that then? I'll even let you choose the item."

"Oh gee, how generous of you," Angel Dust said, his voice deadpanned. After a moment he considered, humming a bit. "Okay, I got somethin'. I'm thinkin' of an object, ya got 20 questions."

"An object you say?" Alastor thought for a moment. He doubted Angel Dust would be clever enough to come up with something he couldn't guess, but even so this could be a good way to pass the time. "Alright. Does it exist outside of fiction?"

"Oh yeah, definitely." Angel Dust leaned back against the corner, fiddling with the carpet under his fingers. "Hey, can I ask ya somethin'?"

"I don't see why not, though I can't promise an answer," Alastor said. "Is it a common item?"

"Yeah, it's pretty common." Angel Dust picked a bit of lint off, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger before flicking it off. "What's your deal? You're spendin' all this time pickin' on me, don't you got anything betta ta do?"

"Simple, I revel in the misery of others," Alastor said, tilting his head a bit. That was an interesting question for him to ask. "Is it something used in daily life?"

"Nah. I mean, _I've_ never used it." Angel Dust let his legs down a bit. Not completely sprawled out, but not pulled to his chest nearly as tight, either. He was starting to relax, the scent thinning out the slightest bit. "Okay, that makes sense I guess, but _why?_ I mean, I get that I'm annoyin' and all, but it's not like the hotel is actually gonna make me better or anythin'. I'm gonna fail either way, so why bother? Unless the sex shit really bother ya that much."

"Perhaps it does. Does it matter?" It was Alastor's turn to tense. What was this, an interrogation? "Does it fit in an average home?"

"Ya mean is it small enough? Yeah, it fits." Angel Dust squinted at him, seemingly trying to make him out in the darkness. "I mean, I guess it doesn't _really_ matter, just curious. Wouldn't think some serial killer psycho would be such a damn prude is all."

"What I do requires strategy, skill, and class," Alastor said. "I cannot say the same for _your_ profession, though. Is it easily mobile?"

"Fifteen left. And if ya mean can ya move it, then yeah, pretty easy." Angel Dust looked somewhat offended, something reflected in his tone. "Hey, bein' a whore ain't exactly a picnic, buster. Ya wanna talk about skill and class? I'm top o'the charts for a _reason_, and it ain't because I'm a slacker."

"Oh yes, because sleeping with men for money is _oh_ so difficult," Alastor said, tone dripping with sarcasm. "Is it electronic?"

"No, it's not." Angel Dust's fur was beginning to bristle again, his eyes glowing a faint pink. "An' you know what? If it's so easy why don't _you_ go an' do it, huh?"

"Even without my aversion I have _far_ better things to do with my time," Alastor said, waving him off. "I don't see why this is even up for debate. You, what, show up, do as you're told, get paid, and leave? You're not in the right here, dear. Now, is it mechanical?"

"No, it's not fuckin' mechanical," Angel Dust snapped. "Ya wanna know what goes inta a job? First of all, ya gotta remember names, preferences, and you gotta be down for _anything_. You gotta be strong and flexible enough for whatever they ask for, ya gotta negotiate prices so ya bring home the bacon for your pimp, ya gotta practically work customer service while ya got a dick or three shoved up your ass, ya can't get pissy if a John's bein' a little bitch or callin' ya names, and you gotta make sure ya got no bad angles for the camera. Do you know how hard that is? You wouldn't last thirty seconds doin' what I do."

Alastor stopped, eyes wide for a moment. He had to admit, that was a bit more complicated than what he was expecting. He considered his next words carefully before he spoke. "I… wasn't aware there were so many moving parts."

"Yeah, most people don't." Angel Dust grumbled, running his fingers through his hair. "'Cause you fuckers never _ask_."

"I suppose you have a point there," Alastor said, looking him over. Stressing Angel Dust out a second time was wielding the opposite results of what he wanted. "Why don't we get back to our game, hm? Does it exist within the hotel?"

"Yeah, whatever," Angel Dust sighed. "Yeah, it's in the hotel."

"Interesting," Alastor mused. "Is it smaller than an oven?"

"Way smaller." Angel Dust's tone was sharp, frustrated. Despite them dropping the subject, he absolutely was not calming down. If anything the fumes were building up once again, burning Alastor's eyes and nose. He would have to come up with something else. Maybe this was a good opportunity to dig up some information, something he could later use to get Angel Dust out of the hotel once and for all.

"If I may, I have some questions of my own," he said. "Outside of the game, of course. Speaking of which, is it something that you can safely eat?"

"I mean, I guess it wouldn't kill ya, but it'd be gross as fuck. Ya got ten left," Angel Dust said. He thought for a moment, waving him off. "Sure, whatever, ask whatever ya want."

"How old were you when you died?" Alastor asked, tilting his head. He knew Angel Dust's father supposedly shot him, but really that was all the information he had. "And this object, is it a swiss army knife?"

"I don't know what planet you're from where eating a swiss army knife won't kill ya, but no, it's not," Angel Dust snorted. He then seemed to consider his first question a moment before shrugging. "Pretty sure I was… what, twenty-six? That sounds right."

Alastor froze, eyes widening a bit. He figured Angel Dust hadn't exactly died an elder, but that was young even by his standards. Alastor had at least made it to his mid thirties. "I will admit, that's younger than I anticipated. Is it made of multiple parts or materials?"

"It can be, yeah." Angel Dust's fur began to lie back down, his posture not quite so rigid. This tactic was working. "What can I say? Party hard, die young."

"You make it sound as if that's _how_ you died," Alastor said. "Is it something you wear?"

"Nah, you don't wear it," Angel Dust said. "And, I mean, I _did_ overdose, so that's _kind of_ how I died, I guess."

Now _that_ was puzzling. That directly conflicted with the information Alastor already had. Which was correct? "I suppose that makes some sense, given your, well, _afflictions_. Was that the only thing in play?" He hoped the question, though prying, wasn't too revealing. "Is the item involved in a game."

"Not any games that I know of," Angel Dust snorted. He stopped a moment, considering his answer carefully. "I guess _technically_ not, no. Gunshot probably helped it along. Or, ya know, freezin' damn near ta death. Guess it coulda been any one of those, but pretty sure it was the overdose that really did me in."

"Sounds like your death was an eventful one," Alastor said. He had to admit, it sounded pretty terrible. And he thought _his_ was painful. Still, that was one mystery solved. Drugs and a gunshot at the same time was bound to put someone six feet under. Or, in Angel Dust's case, a shallow grave in the woods. He briefly wondered if he knew about that. "Is it a _useful_ item?"

"If it's got a use I haven't heard of it," Angel Dust said. His expression fell a bit and he looked to the ground. Alastor wondered if Angel Dust forgot Alastor could see him. "And yeah, I guess it _was_ a pretty wild night." His tone was sad, forlorn even. Alastor felt his heart tighten in his chest, an unfamiliar and _most_ unwelcome sensation. This was the second time today, why did it keep doing that?

"I doubt you're alone in that," Alastor assured in a weak attempt at providing comfort. "Is it something naturally occurring, or otherwise not intentionally made by humans?"

"It's definitely that last one. Ya got 5 left," Angel Dust said. He looked to Alastor, or, rather, at the wall beside Alastor. Despite not being able to see, he was clearly making his best guess. "What about you, smiles? How'd _you_ kick the bucket?"

"That, my dear, is privileged information," Alastor said, his smile tightening. "Is it a skull?"

"It's not a skull, ya sick bastard." Angel Dust tilted his head, squinting a bit. "Why so secretive, huh? Come on, I don't need details."

"Let's just leave it at sometimes, when a killer goes on a rampage, they get caught," Alastor sighed. "Is it a hard object?"

"No, it's not hard." Angel Dust snorted. "So, death by pigs, got it. Hey, if it's any consolation, I hate those badge weildin' bastards too."

"Oh, of that I have no doubt," Alastor said. He considered a moment, thinking his options over carefully. He was running out of questions, and no objects jumped to mind. "Is it smaller than an apple?"

"Yeah, way smaller." Angel Dust shifted a bit, rubbing his arms with his hands. "Gotta say, that doesn't sound like a fun way ta go. Then again, I guess none of them are." He was starting to look upset again, something Alastor was finding frustratingly difficult to avoid.

"Why don't we talk about something less serious, hm?" Alastor said, glancing up towards the air vent. The sooner that damned contraption actually did its job and aired out the room, the sooner he could leave. "Is it smaller than a _pea?_"

"Can be. More or less the same size, it varies kinda. Ya got one left." Angel Dust raised a brow. "Less serious? Like what?"

"Oh I don't know. I'd ask your favorite color, but it's so obviously pink," Alastor mused. "What about your _least_ favorite color?"

"Oh, red, hands down." There was no hesitation in his answer, so much so that Alastor couldn't help but feel just a little offended. Given Alastor's color scheme of choice, it was clear where the answer came from. How _rude_. "You gonna ask your last question or what?"

"I'm _thinking_," Alastor growled. "If it's my last question, I want to choose it wisely."

"If you say so." Angel Dust spread out his legs, his feet just a few inches shy of Alastor's shin. "Fuck, they're really takin' their time, aren't they?"

"There's no guarantee that they're even aware we're trapped yet," Alastor pointed out. He scrunched his nose at Angel Dust's sprawl, pressing himself a little further into the corner. "Are you intent on taking up the _entire_ elevator?"

"Hey, I'm just tryin' ta get comfy," Angel Dust said. "It hurts stayin' curled up like that, I get cramps. What about you, what's _your_ least favorite color?"

"Fair enough, I suppose," Alastor sighed. "And I guess if I had to choose, it'd be green."

"Green? Really?" Angel Dust looked curious, tilting his head. "Why?"

Images flashed through Alastor's mind all at once. A green, cloth armchair, the cuff of a green work shirt with little black buttons resting on his father's wrist, the back of a hand flying towards his face. He stopped and blinked, willing his mind clear. Now was _not_ the time. "I have my reasons. Why is _yours_ red?"

"Oh, that's easy. It's that stupid ass coat," Angel Dust said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Alastor couldn't help the way his smile twitched. Venom or no, that was a _bold_ insult. "_Excuse you_, I happen to think my coat is-"

"What?" Angel Dust interrupted him, looking confused for a moment before rolling his eyes. "Oh for fuck's sake, not everything's about you, ya freak."

Alastor stopped, tilting his head in confusion. "If not me, then who?"

"Look, if you can't figure that out, then I ain't tellin' ya," Angel Dust said. "Now do ya got your last question or not?"

"Oh fine, give me a moment." Alastor considered, going through everything he'd already asked in his mind. Nothing was coming to mind. "Does it have a set color?"

"Nah, it can be pretty much any color." Angel Dust tapped his foot against the air, folding his arms over his torso. "Alright, that's in. Give me your best guesses."

"It can't be a marble, it's not hard," Alastor mumbled. "Is it cotton?"

"What, like a cotton ball?" Angel Dust asked. "No, it's not cotton."

Alastor tilted his head. "Is it a small tassel?"

"Nope, not a tassel." Angel Dust smiled a bit, seemingly enjoying himself. "You're pretty shit at guessing, ya know that?"

"I don't recall asking you," Alastor huffed. "Is it one of those little pom poms, the ones Charlie is so fond of using in arts and crafts?"

Angel Dust chuckled. "No, it's not a pom pom. That one was actually pretty good though."

"I see you pulled out all the stops in making this difficult," Alastor sighed. Despite the fact that he wasn't winning, and _oh_ did he enjoy winning, he actually found he was beginning to enjoy himself. Angel Dust was proving better company than he expected, even if the circumstances were ultimately forced.

"Always do, that's why no one ever plays this game with me," Angel Dust snickered. "Last time I tried, Cherri threatened ta send me ta double hell." He stopped, his expression falling. "Fuck I miss her…"

There it was again, the uncomfortable tightness in his chest. Alastor shifted uncomfortably, taking a deep breath. Perhaps this was some side effect of the venom? Regardless, he felt the strange yet incredibly strong urge to console the spider demon. It was an urge he didn't appreciate. "Oh you'll see her soon enough."

Angel Dust rolled his eyes. "Why, 'cause you're gonna make me lose the bet? Yeah, not happenin', buster."

"Well," Alastor began. He chose his words slowly, carefully. "Even if you _were_ to win, which you will not, that still leaves only, what, twenty three days until the terms of our agreement are over? That certainly isn't too much to endure."

Angel Dust stopped, looking at him with heavy suspicion. "What, you're not gonna try ta convince me ta just go out an' see her so I lose?"

Alastor froze. Oh, that would have been a _much_ better response. He wondered for a moment why he didn't think of that. "I suppose that's also an option, yes."

"Oh, right, like it wasn't the first thing ya thought of," Angel Dust huffed.

Alastor wasn't sure why, but he did not at all appreciate those implications. Even more odd, he didn't feel any feelings of malice and ill intent at this moment. He was genuinely enjoying this harlot's company, much to his concern. Best to ignore that. "You know, I'm tired of guessing. Why don't you just tell me what the object is."

"Oh like I'm gonna do that," Angel Dust said. "Nah, you don't get the satisfaction."

"Now that's not how you play," Alastor said. "Unless, of course, you don't actually _have_ an item in mind, which must I point out would be _cheating_."

"What? Fuck that, I picked somethin', you're just shit at guessin'," Angel Dust snapped. "Not my fault you can't figure it out."

Alastor rolled his eyes. "Oh calm down, will you? I was _joking_."

Angel Dust stopped, curling back up a bit and lowering the volume of his voice. "Oh. Sorry."

"Oh don't apologize," Alastor said, waving him off. "And don't look so pathetic, either."

Angel Dust sighed. "Oh like you don't already think-"

He was interrupted by the sound of the car powering up, by the lights flickering back on. Alastor looked up, his ear flicking. "Well would you look at that. Seems they found us." The car began to move, seemingly in a descent. Had they redirected them as well?

"Holy shit, _holy shit!_" Angel Dust jumped up in excitement, bouncing over to the doors. In just a few moments they opened with a soft _ding_, revealing the entirety of the hotel's residents grouped together. Charlie was at the forefront, concern flooding her features. She opened her mouth to speak, but was unable to let out more than a startled squeal when Angel Dust wrapped his four arms around her in a tight hug and lifted her off the ground. "Thank fuck! Charlie, you saved us!"

"Hey, hey!" Vaggie summoned her spear and growled, pointing it at him. "You put her down!"

Angel Dust seemed unconcerned with the threat, rubbing his cheek to Charlie's. "Thank you thank you _thank you!_"

Charlie gave a light laugh, putting a hand on his face and gently pressing in an attempt to give herself some room. "Thank Husker! He's the one who got the elevator to work again, who knew he was so good at wiring?"

Husker shrugged, looking unenthused. "It's one of my many hidden talents."

Angel Dust dropped Charlie before patting Husker's cheek. "Have I ever told you you're my favorite kitty, you beautiful bastard you?"

Husker snarled and snapped at his fingers, fangs bared. "Touch me again and see what happens." Curiously, the usual edge to his tone was gone. It was if the aggression was a front rather than genuine.

Alastor stood, brushing off his coat. "I would also like to thank you. I didn't want to be in there any longer than I had to."

Husker raised a brow at him in a silent question, one Alastor understood all too well. _If you didn't want to be there, then why didn't you just leave? _Well. It wasn't a question that needed answering, especially since it was none of Husker's business.

"Come on, let's go finish breakfast. I'll even make you some hot chocolate," Charlie said, giving Angel Dust a sickeningly kind smile. She gently patted his arm before turning to walk away, the rest of the group following.

"Don't you try anything this time, ya got it?" Vaggie said, giving Angel Dust a threatening glare. "Charlie worked _hard_ on this."

"Wouldn't dream of it, scouts honor," Angel Dust said, putting a hand up.

She stopped, raising a brow. "Wait, you were a boy scout?"

"Sure wasn't!"

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head but otherwise satisfied with the oath. "Whatever, weirdo." She turned and followed her significant other, the ribbons of her bow swishing behind her.

Angel Dust moved to follow them, Alastor trailing behind. However, he stopped at the edge of the car, forcing Alastor to stop behind him. He once again reached into his pocket, pulling something out. "Hey, hold out your hand."

Alastor, too puzzled to consider not following the direction, held out his hand. Angel Dust dropped something into his palm before he started walking towards the dining room, his heels clicking against the floor. Alastor looked at the object, a little wad of pocket lint. He scrunched up his nose in confusion before looking at Angel Dust. "And just what is this?"

Angel Dust glanced over his shoulder with a smug little smirk. "Ya said ya wanted ta know, right? The object? Thought I'd tell ya so ya don't lose your goddamn mind over it."

Alastor could only stare in shock after Angel Dust's retreating form. Pocket lint? The object had been _pocket lint? _He wanted to be outraged, but even he had to admit that was clever. He never would have guessed, no matter how many questions he had been allotted.

One thing Had been made clear after today's little misadventure. He didn't know Angel Dust nearly as well as he previously thought.


	17. Chapter 17: Paranioa

**Author's Note:** Hey all, I'm raffling off a FREE 2k commission! Go check it out! /WhySoSeven/status/1305871581466562560

* * *

It was day twelve, and Angel Dust was falling apart. The withdrawal had only gotten worse, leaving him shaking and sweating in his bed during sleepless, seemingly endless nights. The hallucinations had stopped, thank fuck for that, but it looked as if that was the only break he would be catching. The little truce he had built with Husker had crumbled away, no doubt because of his own bad attitude, and he had been actively rejecting any attempts by Charlie to comfort him. He was a piece of shit who didn't deserve it, he knew that, and he _especially_ didn't deserve it when he was acting like such a little bitch. He didn't _want_ to be behaving this way, he didn't want to scream at Niffty every time she got caught under foot, he didn't want to smash glasses on Husker's bar and cuss him out when he was forced to order water instead of the strong drink he desperately needed, he didn't want to tell Charlie to stuff a cactus up her ass when she tried to help him, and yet here he was. A useless pile of trash, staying in bed because he couldn't function like a normal fuckin' person.

The only person he hadn't driven away was Alastor. After they had made it out of the elevator Alastor had refused to even be in the same room as him for a couple of days, but then out of nowhere he started following Angel Dust around like some kind of lost puppy. Clearly he was up to something, Angel Dust wasn't dumb enough to ever believe otherwise, but he couldn't figure out what the hell it was. What was his angle here? He'd been way too damn nice, Angel Dust didn't trust it for one second. Especially not considering all that information he let slip while they were trapped. What the fuck had he been thinking? Giving Alastor personal details was like giving a toddler a razor and hoping it went well. It was just a bad idea.

A gentle knock on his door caught his attention, making him glance up with a glare. If that was Charlie, he was gonna-

"Angel Dust? My dear it's well past noon. Are you planning on spending the day in bed?"

Oh, of course. Speak of the fucking devil.

He groaned and pulled his pillow over his head. "Holy shit, Alastor _leave me the fuck alone_."

The door opened with a soft creak, the sound of shoes clicking against the floor grating on Angel Dust's ears. Those _God damn tap shoes_. He swore he heard those things in his nightmares. "I'm sorry, Angel Dust, but we both know I can't do that. Charlie is getting worried for you, you know." He heard Alastor go over to the window and pull the curtains open, letting in an unwelcome flood of light that permeated the edges of Angel Dust's pillow. "Come on now, it's time to get up. I've brought you a coffee, if that helps you any."

Angel Dust peeked over the top of the pillow, giving Alstor a hard glare. Who did this clown think he was fooling? "Yeah, like I'm gonna fall for that shit. What's in there? Drugs? Booze? Aphrodisiacs?"

Alastor just smiled at him. The smile almost looked _fond_, but Angel Dust knew better. It was just another one of Alastor's tricks. "Cream and sugar, actually. That's how you prefer it, if I remember correctly."

"Oh, right, sure," Angel Dust said, rolling his eyes. He retreated back under his pillow, letting it muffle his voice. "Like I'm gonna fall for that. Nice try, chuckles, you're not getting me today."

He heard Alastor sigh, no doubt frustrated that Angel Dust had seen right through him. "If I were to spike your drink, you wouldn't be _willingly_ taking substance, would you? That doesn't sound like giving up to me, our deal would still be intact."

Angel Dust stopped, peeking out once again to squint at him. As suspicious as he was, Alastor had a point there. And that coffee smelled _really_ fucking good. Was that hazelnut? After a moment he groaned and sat up, snatching the coffee out of Alastor's hands. "_Fine_. I'll drink your coffee, but I swear to Lucifer if you spiked it I'll knock your ass into next week."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Alastor said. He folded his hands behind his back, watching Angel Dust expectantly as he took a sip. As much as he didn't want to admit it, this shit was _good_. There was definitely hazelnut and, if he had to guess, a little bit of cinnamon and cocoa powder. The whole mix was topped with a little bit of whipped cream and a chocolate drizzle, talk about a rare treat. He had to admit, it was delicious, but there was no way in hell he was telling Alastor that.

"Yeah, thanks, I guess," he grumbled, looking away.

"You're very welcome," Alastor said. He leaned to the side to make eye contact with Angel Dust, much to his annoyance. "Do you like it? I will admit, I added a few extra spices. I thought they would be a nice little experiment."

"We both know you an' 'nice' don't go together," Angel Dust huffed. He then paused, glancing at the cup before begrudgingly adding, "but, yeah, I guess it's pretty good. The hazelnut was a nice touch."

"I had a feeling it would be," Alastor said with a pleased grin. Why this asshole would care about whether or not Angel Dust liked his coffee was beyond him. Alastor straightened before going back over to the doorway, humming softly as he walked. He stopped just before exiting, glancing back at Angel Dust. "I believe Niffty has prepared a little treat for you, so I do suggest you hurry and come down to enjoy some. You wouldn't want to disappoint her."

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Angel Dust sighed. He watched as Alastor stepped out, closing the door behind him. What a fuckin' weirdo. He sipped on his coffee a moment longer, letting the warmth of the mug radiate through his fingers. He had to admit, this was making him feel slightly better. Sweets were definitely his go to comfort food, and fuck if he didn't need a little comfort right now. Granted, the source was a little questionable, but still.

Speaking of the source, he hated to admit it but Alastor was probably right. Whether or not he felt like shit, he needed to roll his sorry ass out of bed if he wanted to keep up this fragile illusion that he wasn't cracking under the pressure. He wasn't sure that anyone believed that anymore, not after the way he had been acting, but he had to at least pretend. It was kind of all he had at this point. With a heavy sigh he swung his legs over the side of the bed, every joint in his body screaming for him to lie back down. Fuck, why did withdrawal have to make everything hurt so damn much? On the list of things that weren't fair, that was pretty near the top. Life already sucked ass when you weren't on drugs, no one needed pain on top of it. Regardless, he didn't really have any other options. Not unless he wanted to wind up back at the studio, back at the mercy of the one person in hell that scared him the most. Alastor could act like a big bad all damn day, but he had _nothing_ on Valentino.

He stood and stretched, wincing as his back cracked in several places. Fat Nuggets watched from his bed, snorting softly as Angel Dust changed into his usual day clothes. As badly as he wanted to stay in his pajamas, he knew that Alastor would probably use it against him somehow. Don't need to give off a "falling apart" vibe so soon after having such a massive breakdown in the elevator. He would be damned, well, more damned than he already was, if he was going to give Alastor the upper hand here. Once he was dressed he glanced in the mirror, looking himself over.

Well, if he didn't look like a fuckin' basket case disaster in heels.

As bad as it was, it would have to do. He was actually kind of curious as to what Niffty had made him, even if it was a little suspicious that Alastor was the one who had told him about it. He snagged his coffee before making his way to the kitchen, keeping his focus on not tripping over his own feet as he moved down the stairway. He could smell a hint of chocolate in the air, just enough to make his mouth water. Oh, fuck yes. Sweet treats were good, _chocolate_ treats were better. He wasn't sure why she'd make him something so nice when he'd been such a dick to her for the past week, but fuck if he was going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Maybe this would be just the pick me up he needed to calm his ass down. That would definitely be nice, relaxing with his coffee and a bite of whatever that little hell raiser had whipped up. He stumbled into the kitchen, eyes immediately drawn to a mini loaf pan on the stove. Inside were little chocolate bread loaves with what looked like green colored white chocolate chips. He was practically drooling just looking at them, the smell making his stomach growl.

Niffty was standing on a little step ladder, doing the dishes when she noticed him walking in. She looked up, grinning at him. "Good morning, miss Angel Dust! Are you feeling any better?"

"Sure am now, toots. Those for takes?" He grabbed a plate and went over to the stove, picking one of the loaves out without waiting for an answer.

"They're for you!" She beamed. "Alastor asked me to make them for you."

Angel Dust froze, squinting at her. Now _that_ was sketchy as fuck. "Oh, he did, did he?"

"Oh yes! He said you would like something sweet, and gave me the recipe!" She said. "He can be really nice sometimes!"

Angel Dust looked at the loaf. In this new light it looked almost sinister. Who knew what was in there? "Yeah, sure, nice. Say, Niffty, what's in these? Chocolate?"

Niffty nodded so enthusiastically it made Angel Dust dizzy just watching her. "Oh yes! Chocolate and, as a special treat, little mint chips!"

"Oh you have got ta be fuckin' kidding me!" Angel Dust threw the loaf down on the ground, watching it bounce a bit before breaking apart. Of course, of fucking _course_ Alastor had figured out he was allergic to mint. He had gone pretty far before, but ruining _food_? That was low even for him.

Niffty shrieked, dropping to kneel by the now ruined loaf. "My baking!"

"Oh save it!" Angel Dust narrowed his eyes in a glare, baring his fangs. Close to Alastor as she was, he wouldn't be surprised if she were in on this little ploy to get him shipped out of the hotel. He wouldn't be surprised if they _all _were. There were only two ways Alastor would have gotten that information, and that was through either Charlie or Cherri Bomb. Out of the two, he knew Cherri wouldn't give it up. And if he could turn Charlie against him, he could sure as fuck turn Niffty. "You little fucks think you're so damn clever, well guess what? I'm not fallin' for it, I'm not eatin' your shitty cooking, and I'm sure as hell not gonna keep putting up with this!"

Tears welled up in Niffty's eye, spilling from both corners as she looked up at him. "Miss Angel Dust, what are you _talking_ about?"

"You know damn well what I'm talking about!" He snapped. "And will ya knock it off with that 'miss' bullshit? It's not fuckin' cute anymore!"

"I-I don't know what you mean," she sobbed, scooping up the remnants of the loaf. "Why did you _do_ this? Wh-what's wrong with my cooking?"

"You fuckin' know why, ya fuckin' pint sized pea brain!"

"What's going on in-" Alastor stopped when he stepped through the kitchen door, eyes glancing over the scene before him. "Oh, oh my. What happened?"

"Oh like you don't know," Angel Dust growled.

"I'm sure I don't," Alastor said. That fucking bastard, he had the nerve to look confused, _concerned_ even. Talk about a load of bullshit. "Angel Dust, are you alright?"

"You know damn well I'm not!" Angel Dust screeched. He smacked the mini loaf pan onto the ground, earning himself a scream from Niffty as she scrambled to clean it up through her tears. "I know what you're up to, ya fuckin' psycho! You think you can get me ta give up this easy? A little fuckin' poison, turnin' them all against me, you think I can't handle that? Well think again!"

"Poison? Turning them against you? What in the _world_ are you talking about?" Alastor's brows were knit together, his eyes trained on Angel Dust with a lost expression. He was a damn good actor, Angel Dust would give him that much, but he wasn't going to be fooled.

Angel Dust growled, feeling his fur begin to stand on end. "Oh like I'm fallin' for that shit! How fuckin' stupid do you think I am, huh? I don't know how the hell ya got Charlie ta tell ya I'm allergic ta mint, but I'm not eatin' it!"

Alastor's eyes widened. "You're allergic to mint?"

"Oh quit pretendin', we both know you already knew that!" Angel Dust stomped his foot, barely missing Niffty's little fingers. She pulled back with a gasp, making him feel the barest twinge of guilt. But, then again, maybe she shouldn't have been working with Alastor. "You know what? I don't have ta deal with this. I don't have ta deal with any of you assholes. I'm goin' back ta bed." With that he stormed out, leaving Alastor and Niffty to deal with their own shit.

"Angel Dust, hold on, I think there's been a misunder-" Angel Dust didn't wait to hear the end of Alastor's little speech, instead opting to slam the door in his face before making his way back up the stairs while tears stung his eyes. He wasn't sure what emotions he was feeling at that moment, there were way too many of them, but he knew what he needed to do. If he was going to wait this out, he was going to have to do it alone.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N:** Just a reminder that I'm still giving away a 2k fic! Check out WhySoSeven on twitter to find out how to make it yours!

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Alastor was confused, to say the least. He was left standing in the kitchen, staring at the door Angel Dust had slammed in his face as Niffty sobbed on the floor. What, in the absolute _hell_, had just happened? Whatever it was, that was one impressive conspiracy theory Angel Dust was waving around. As if Alastor could do anything to turn everyone in the hotel against him in that manor. Sure, he could make him look like a fool, he could make him seem so undesirable they wouldn't want him, but that was about it. He couldn't create ill intent when there was none, and the only one who already had it was himself.

Well, previously, anyway. He had since decided that maybe, just maybe, keeping Angel Dust here wasn't as bad as he had originally believed. The more he stopped to admire the other demon, the more he found new ways to appreciate him. His surprisingly quick wit, his love for sweets and animals, his seemingly unwavering self confidence, his bold nature, it was all becoming oddly endearing. It was a range of emotion that Alastor was unused to experiencing but, after taking a couple of days to himself to consider, he had come to terms with it. Why not embrace this change? He craved entertainment, value to his time spent here in Hell, and what better way to spend said time than to explore something new? Yes, purchasing Angel Dust's contract was a bit of a risky gamble, but it was one Alastor was confident he could handle. If it didn't work he had ways of disposing of other demons, so in the end there was really no losing for him.

However, this latest outburst suggested that an alliance may require more work than he had originally anticipated. As frustrating as it was, he couldn't exactly blame Angel Dust for assuming the worst. Alastor had certainly done his best to do him harm in the past, so a sudden change of heart would be just a little difficult to believe for even the most trusting of souls. The fact that he was notorious for his sadistic tendencies probably didn't help, either. He looked to Niffty, watching as she scraped the remainder of her hard work off of the floor through her sniffles, only to throw it all in the garbage. Okay, so giving him treats was clearly a bust. To say that had all gone horribly wrong would be an understatement, but how else was Alastor supposed to make the next eighteen days easier?

He watched Niffty for a moment longer as he contemplated his next move. Helping her wouldn't do any good, and if he were honest he didn't care overly much. Sure he was fond of the little darling, but comfort was not something he specialized in. After a moment he folded his hands behind his back and strolled out of the kitchen, eyes scanning the hotel lobby for any sign of Charlie. As much as he didn't exactly enjoy asking for help, she would probably be his best bet. This whole rehabilitation business was _her_ grand scheme after all, if anyone had any ideas on keeping a temperamental drug addict occupied it would be her. His ear flicked when he heard her voice from up the stairs, faint yet clear. She was talking to someone, and given the seriousness of her tone it was about something important.

Well, not more important than _his_ current predicament, that was for sure.

Alastor made his way up the stairs and down the hall, following the sound of her voice until his target came into view. She was talking with Vaggie with her back to him, her arms crossed and her tone laced with concern. "I _know_, I'm worried too. He's just been acting so weird, I don't-"

"Charlie! So glad I've found you!" Charlie jumped with a squeal, spinning around to face Alastor with a twitchy smile. "A word, my dear?"

"Alastor! Ha, ha ha, I didn't see you there!" She looked almost panicked. Hm, perhaps he should have been paying closer attention to what she had been talking about. He had a feeling he was the main topic. "What's, um, what's up?"

"He glanced her over before meeting her eyes once again, tilting his head a bit. "I wanted your opinion on something. I'm sure you've all noticed Angel Dust's recent struggles?"

"Maybe we have," Vaggie said, her eyes narrowing. He narrowed his right back. The last thing he needed was her suspicion, as far as he was concerned she could keep it to herself.

He then looked back to Charlie, expression brightening once again. "Given that I am responsible for him, I've been considering an alternative way for him to spend his time! However, I'm sorry to say I haven't had much luck in terms of ideas. Is there anything you could suggest? A sort of creative outlet, perhaps?"

"A creative outlet?" It was Charlie's turn to look suspicious, no doubt trying to figure out a way that he could spin this to his own advantage. The joke was on her, he had no ulterior motives this time. "Like what, exactly?"

"That's just it, I'm not sure," Alastor sighed. "I don't think I have to tell you how I prefer to spend _my_ free time, and I highly doubt those are 'hotel approved' activities." He used air quotes to emphasize his point, then paused for a moment to consider. "Or interesting to Angel Dust, for that matter. Despite his talk, he doesn't strike me as one to enjoy carnage the way I do."

"No, no carnage!" Charlie cried, waving her hands a bit. She then pursed her lips, looking down in thought. "Okay, just, let me think. Maybe crafting? He seems to do really well with making things with me."

"Well that's an interesting option, but I feel as if gluing googly eyes to pom poms all day would get tedious," Alastor said. Then again, with how easily entertained Angel Dust could be, perhaps not.

"There are other crafts you can do," Charlie said, looking unamused. "I mean, there's scrapbooking, which is my personal favorite, there's beading, there's knitting, slime making is really popular right now, there's-"

Alastor put his hand up to stop her as he considered. Knitting? Angel Dust _was_ a spider after all, so maybe an activity having to do with thread wasn't a bad idea. Especially with his fondness for soft sweaters and blankets, learning such a skill would allow him to create his own in any fashion he pleased. He looked at Charlie and grinned. "No need to continue, my dear, I think you've given me the perfect idea!"

Charlie blinked, looking surprised. "I did?"

"Absolutely!" Alastor straightened, folding his hands behind his back. "I think I know just how to continue now. Thank you for your contributions, they are _greatly_ appreciated."

Charlie glanced back at Vaggie who merely shrugged. After a moment she looked back to Alastor, giving him a shaky smile and a thumbs up. "Heh, sure, any time."

He turned on his heel and walked back up the hallway, formulating a plan with every step. There weren't many stores where he could go to get what he needed, but he was sure with a little effort he could find what he was looking for. Money certainly wouldn't be an issue, that much was for certain. Even so, he would have his work cut out for him with this. More than likely it would take all day, more effort than he had put into anything for quite a while, but given how Angel Dust tended to react to gifts he had no doubt it would be worth the sacrifice.

He spent the rest of the afternoon milling about hell, visiting shop after shop as he gathered the necessary supplies. Not only would Angel Dust need the materials to get started and practice, but there was also the matter of creating a space where he was comfortable doing so. Most of his bedding had been effectively ruined during his meltdown and, although what remained sufficed for sleeping well enough, he was sure Angel Dust would appreciate a little nook to relax in. Something soft, something comfortable, something _pink_. All in all this was leading up to be quite an extravagant gift, something that showed more of his cards than he would have preferred, but he could deal with that. The long term outcome would be well worth it.

Once he had decided that he had collected everything he needed, he made his way back to the hotel. He got a few odd looks from passing demons, no doubt over the outrageous number of bags he was toting, but frankly that was none of their business. Not that any of them had the courage to question it.

The hotel's residents, on the other hand, would not be nearly so passive. That much was for sure. That was why Alastor glanced inside before entering, making sure there was no one nearby. Niffty, Charlie, and Vaggie were nowhere to be seen. Angel Dust was most likely still in his room, and Husker was asleep at the bar.

Perfect.

Alastor stepped through the doors, glancing around one last time before making his way to the roof. He avoided the elevator, for obvious reason, but the stairs did just fine. Once he was there he got to work, starting with building a small cover and then padding it out with the soft blankets he had purchased. A few pillows here, some back support there, a stuffed pig or two, and it was a paradise fit for one very particular spider demon. If this didn't help him relax, Alastor didn't know what would. He finished off his little set up by placing the supplies he would need to get started with his new craft in the center to ensure Angel Dust would notice it. He then stepped back to admire his handiwork, feeling himself swell with pride. Now _this_ was a crafting nook. If this didn't make Angel Dust happy he wasn't sure what would. Now he just had to go fetch the victim of his generosity and then maybe, just maybe, things would calm down.

Was it wrong that he was excited?

He went back down the hotel stairway, forcing himself to not take the stairs two at a time. This was it, he had created the perfect little escape. Angel Dust would see it, see that Alastor wasn't out to do him harm, calm down, and then Alastor could get to know the elusive side of Angel Dust that he was beginning to find so charming. Now all there was to do was drag Angel Dust from his bed which, although no doubt challenging, was something he could manage. He reached the second floor and stepped into the hallway, turning to make his way to Angel Dust's room. However, something made him stop. It was faint, but he could hear a commotion in the lobby. He stopped, tilting his head as he listened. What on earth were they up to _now? _Certainly something he didn't have time for, he was far too busy. It would probably be in his best interest to just ignore it for the time being, to deal with it after he had accomplished his goal. That was, until he heard Angel Dust's voice among the ruckus.

Alastor sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Well, so much for that idea. It would seem as if his little reveal would have to wait, he would have to take care of this now after all. He took a moment to compose himself before going down the hall and to the staircase, taking a moment to analyze the scene before him. Angel Dust was on his knees before a bewildered Charlie, sobbing as he tugged on the end of her jacket. Vaggie, rather than threatening his life as per usual, just looked shocked. Husker was pouring himself a drink, his expression grim.

What in the world could he _possibly_ have missed?

"Pardon me!" He called, watching everyone turn to him as he stepped down the staircase. "Would someone care to inform me on what's happening?"

Angel Dust's eyes widened, his pupils blown wide and tears spilling into his fur. Was that _fear_ Alastor saw in his expression? What did he have to be afraid of? He then turned back to Charlie, looking up at her as he begged. "Please, Charlie _please_ ya gotta buy my contract, ya can't make me go back ta him please I'll go _anywhere_ just not back there!"

"Angel Dust, what are you talking about?" Charlie asked, looking both concerned and extremely confused.

Alastor's smile waived the smallest bit at his own confusion. Buy his contract? _Go?_ What was he on about? He walked over to Angel Dust, shoes clicking against the ground with every step. "My dear, whatever's going on, I'm sure we can-"

"No!" Angel Dust screeched, letting go of Charlie and scrambling back. "No, Alastor please, I-I didn't mean ta do it, I promise, I was confused I, _please_ I don't wanna go!"

"Do _what?_" Alastor asked, furrowing his brow. He stepped closer, ignoring the way Angel Dust scooted away from him in pure terror. "Angel Dust, I don't-"

He stopped short when he saw it. The blown pupils, his unfocused expression, the bits of white powder in his fur.

_Oh._ Oh no, no something had gone terribly wrong. Alastor had been in hell long enough to recognize a demon under the influence when he saw one, there was no doubt about it. He wasn't sure how or why, he wasn't sure where Angel Dust could have possibly procured the means, but he was definitely higher than the angels sharpening their spears in heaven. He was trembling, tears spilling down onto his cheeks as he gasped for air in his panic. A soft green light began to emanate from them both before swirling around them, sigils dancing in the air above their heads.

This was it. The deal was set, the fight was over. Whether or not he wanted it, Alastor had won their little wager. Even if, in that moment, it felt very much as if he had lost.


	19. Chapter 19: Broken

Angel Dust was so fucking sick of this God damn hotel. He was sick of the betrayal, the tiptoeing around Alastor, the acting all compliant so his ass didn't get nailed to the wall, he was done with all of it. That was the only thing on his mind as he stormed back to his room, slamming his door behind him. Fat Nuggets jumped with a soft squeal at the disturbance, turning to look at their mama with a soft snort. Angel Dust ignored them, instead opting to throw himself down on his bed and curl up into a little ball with a soft sob.

_Fuck_. He thought he could at least, if no one else, trust Niffty and Charlie, but Alastor had clearly gotten to everyone. Did he really think Angel Dust would fall for this little ploy, this whole "bein' nice" routine? Exactly how stupid did Alastor think he was? Well whatever he thought, Alastor was _wrong_. He wouldn't let that bastard get to him, no matter who that bastard turned against him. He was _Angel Dust_, damn it, he fought on his own damn terms. If he left this hotel it would be because _he_ wanted to, not because some pimp wannabe was chasing him out.

Actually, now that he thought about it, maybe he _did_ want to leave the hotel. What was here for him, exactly? A bunch of traitors? Some self serving bitches? Why did he even want to stay? All him being there did was give Alastor all the entertainment he could ever ask for, and that sure as fuck didn't sit well with Angel Dust. No, it was time he took matters into his own hands. Alastor wanted to torture him so bad? Angel Dust wouldn't give him the fucking chance. He got up and went over to his bookcase, searching the rows of DVDs for the one that held his salvation. It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for, popping the case open to reveal a little bag of white powder. It wasn't much, but it'd definitely get the job done, even if it'd be a bit of a shit high. He emptied the contents into his palm and shoved his face into it, inhaling deeply and letting the substance fill his lungs. Screw doing a line, this was _so_ much more satisfying. And if he left the hotel, that meant a damn near endless supply on the outside. Now he just had to sit back, relax, and wait for the high to kick in. He flopped back on his bed, patting his leg so Fat Nuggets would jump up and curl up with him. While he waited he wanted to do something nice, and nothing was nicer than petting his little piggy.

It took a little while, longer than he would have liked, before he started noticing the effects. It wasn't much, it _was_ a really small dose after all, but it was enough to help him relax. The calm, the euphoria, the _colors, _fuck he missed this. What did he have to worry about with Alastor, anyway? He was Angel Dust, Hell's little darling whore, hell what did he have to worry about with _anyone?_ He was untouchable, damn near _invincible_. He had hoards of fans wrapped around his finger, his bestie by his side, and his favorite piggy in his arms. He didn't need this hotel, he didn't need anyone in it, he was just fine on his own.

He stared up at his ceiling in fascination, watching in his drug induced haze. It was kind of a waste of a high to stay put, but he just felt too damn good to move right now. Why _should_ he move? He was comfortable, happy, _perfect_. He didn't need to go anywhere, he just needed to lie here and experience this in its fullest. Everyone always said that a high after going clean was the best, and damn if that wasn't proving true right about now. He felt so warm, so happy, yeah he was a little antsy but he could ignore that for now. He wanted to revel in this moment, revel in this feeling. Especially considering this was such a small dose, it wouldn't have him going for any more than a few hours.

Hours that passed far too quickly for his liking. His first hint was the fading of his euphoria, replaced with anxiety crawling up his spine. Fuck, it couldn't be wearing off already, could it? He hadn't been on it nearly long enough.

A glance at the clock told him that he was incredibly wrong.

He bolted up, grabbing the clock and pulling it closer to squint at it. "Fuck! How the hell is it already _five_?" He didn't have time to keep laying in bed. As the fog of his mind began to clear, it left room to process the events from earlier. What the hell had he been thinking, assuming everyone in the hotel had turned against him? Charlie wouldn't hurt a damn fly, she was too nice, and Niffty was too _stupid_. That little short stack had the same amount of brain power as a pound of gravel, which meant all he had done earlier was make an ass of himself. He should probably go apologize and, while he was at it, check in with Charlie. He didn't need her freaking out because she hadn't seen him all day. Besides, she liked to keep track of his progress being sober. No need to keep her waiting, not when he got so many treats for behaving. Sure he had been a bit of a bitch earlier, but maybe if he were lucky she'd make him some shortcake anyway. He stood on shaky legs, giving Nugs a pat on the head before walking towards the door. Now all he had to do was-

A pressure on the side of the neck stopped his thoughts short. The pressure quickly turned to a dull ache, making him frown. Now that was a new side effect. Why did his neck hurt, of all things? He hadn't even really moved during his entire trip, so it wasn't like he had hurt himself. It almost felt like something else, something familiar. Like when he had made that deal with Alastor, and it had settled in his neck. Angel Dust froze, his eyes widening. Oh, oh shit, oh _fuck_.

_The deal._

What in the hell had he been thinking? He had just lost! This was it, this was the end for his little Happy Hotel vacation bullshit. He had just single handedly thrown away any chance he had of making this his new home, of being happy in this dumpster fire of a city. Even worse, he had just thrown away any chance he had of escaping Valentino. Now he was going to have to go crawling back, groveling on his hands and knees and praying to anyone listening that his punishment wasn't too harsh. Maybe he'd get off easy, with just a few sessions to make up for lost time.

Or maybe Valentino would beat him within an inch of his afterlife. It was kind of a toss up.

He ran a hand through his hair, desperately trying to calm his ragged breathing. The pain in his neck only grew worse, reminding him of his poor decisions. Sure he had always been a bit of a fuck up, but this was a whole new level of getting into some shit. How would he explain this to Charlie? Fuck, where _was_ Charlie? More importantly, was she alone, or was she with Vaggie? If she was, that might be a problem. Charlie he could work with, but that bitch of a girlfriend would throw him out on his ass faster than he could say "daddy". Charlie, though, Charlie _cared_ about him. Despite his earlier paranoid delusions, he at least recognized that much. She'd never let him go back to Valentino if she could help it. And if she couldn't help it, well, he didn't want to think about that.

He shook his head, taking another deep breath. Fuck, he forgot how hard it was to focus with rocket fuel in his system, but he didn't have much of a choice. No curling up and waiting it out, not this time. He was pretty sure his afterlife depended on him actually getting off his lazy ass and doing something for once. In this case, that meant hunting down the only person that could save him and begging for help. Okay, so if he were Charlie, where would he be? Honestly, probably _anywhere_ in this damn hotel. That lovable airhead never sat still. She could be in her office, her room, the kitchen, the lobby, and of the various rooms the hotel had sitting empty waiting to be decorated, anywhere.

Fuck it, he might as well just go to the lobby and work his way up. That was as good of a place to start as any. He squared his shoulders and made his way through the hall and down the stairs. He could do this. He could get out of this mess. He _had_ to get out of this mess. Charlie would help him, she wouldn't just let him crash and burn. But with each step down came new doubts. _Would_ Charlie save him? This was bad, _really_ bad, and he hadn't exactly given her any reasons to want to help him, _especially_ not in the past few days. He wouldn't be surprised if she wanted him out just as badly as Vaggie did. Hell, at this point he'd be surprised if she _didn't_. He knew _he_ wouldn't want to be around himself if he could help it.

By the time he reached the bottom step he was a trembling mess. He was sick to his stomach from nerves, his legs shaking so badly they barely held him up. The only thing he could be bothered to feel was the pure, undiluted panic rushing through his veins. Or maybe that was the drugs, he wasn't really sure anymore. He stumbled forward into the lobby, struggling to keep his footing under the weight of his own regret. As he glanced around the room he saw no signs of Charlie, or anyone else for that matter. The only one around was Husker, wiping down the bar for what was probably the fiftieth time that day. Well, _there_ was someone that sure as fuck wasn't going to be helping him out. Even if Angel Dust hadn't done everything in his limited power to piss off the one ally that was on to Alastor's shit, it wasn't exactly a secret that Husker was consistently short on cash. Having a hefty gambling problem tended to do that to you.

Oh shit, and now he was looking Angel Dust's way. His indifferent expression turned to a scowl, though he looked more confused than malicious. "The fuck's up with you?"

Angel Dust was at the bar before he even realized his legs had moved him. "Husker! Husker, buddy, I fucked up." Part of him wished he didn't sound so desperate, and every other part of him told that part to shut the fuck up because _now was not the time_. "I _really_ fucked up an' I don't, I can't find Charlie an' I _need_ her an-"

"Whoa, _whoa_." Husker put his paws up to stop Angel Dust's ramblings, his brow furrowing. "How about we slow down, yeah? What the fuck happened to you? Ya look like shit."

"Of course I look like shit, my fuckin' _afterlife_ is on the line!" Angel Dust snapped.

"Hey, hey _easy_," Husker said. "Look, whatever it is, I'm sure we can get'cha out of it."

"Like hell you can!" Angel Dust screeched, slamming his hands down on the bar. He pointed a finger towards Husker, eyes narrowed in a glare. "Playin' buddy buddy is all well an' good, but don't'chu fuckin' pretend you can get me outta a deal with Alastor!"

Husker's eyes widened before his expression fell, eyes filling with pity. It hurt Angel Dust just looking at it, making him want to curl up in a little ball and hide himself away until this whole shitstorm blew over. "Oh, oh kid. Not even Charlie can save you from that."

Those words hit like a slap to the face. "No, _no!_" Angel Dust felt tears sting his eyes, felt his hands trembling. "Don't you fuckin' say that, not another goddamn word! She said she'd help me, so she's gonna fuckin' help me! She _has_ to!"

"Help you with what?"

Angel Dust spun around, met with Charlie's worried face. He may have been in hell, but he swore he heard angels sing. "Charlie! Oh thank fuck you're here!" He moved to hug her, but was stopped by a spear shoved in his face.

"Not so fast," Vaggie growled. "I want to know just what the fuck you did."

Charlie glanced to the spear and then to Vaggie. "Vaggie, I don't think-"

"I fucked up."

Both girls stopped, looking at him. He tried not to be offended by the shock in their expressions. Charlie was the first to snap out of it just long enough to voice her confusion. "What?"

"What, ya want me ta fuckin' sing it for ya?" Angel Dust snapped. "Ya want it in writing and notarized? _I fucked up_. I fucked up real bad an' I need your help ta fix it."

Charlie and Vaggie looked at each other, considering a moment before Vaggie shrugged. "I mean, I guess asking for help is progress?"

"I agree," Charlie said with a nod. She looked to Angel Dust, giving him a sweet smile. "How can I help?"

"It's a long story, but basically I-" Angel Dust cut himself off, freezing when he heard it. _Radio static_. It was coming from up the stairs, growing louder with each barely audible click of hoof-print shoes against the floor.

He was out of time. Alastor was coming.

"Fuck, fuck!" He turned back to Charlie, getting down on his knees and grabbing the end of her jacket. Looked like groveling was what he was going with. "I don't have time to explain but fuck, please, you gotta help me before he kicks me out!"

"Kick you out?" Charlie asked. "I don't understand."

"Pardon me!" And there he was, Angel Dust's own personal ruiner of lives. He looked to the staircase to find Alastor slowly making his way down, his smile doing nothing to conceal his confusion. "Would someone care to inform me on what's happening?"

Angel Dust's eyes widened. If he was confused, was it possible he didn't know yet? Well, if he didn't know now, he'd definitely find out soon. Tears stung his eyes as he thought of what that meant for him. This was it, this was his only chance to drag himself out of this hot mess. He turned back to Charlie, gripping her jacket and hoping against all odds that his pleading actually did something for once. "Please, Charlie _please_ ya gotta buy my contract, ya can't make me go back ta him please I'll go _anywhere_ just not back there!"

"Angel Dust, what are you talking about?" Charlie asked, exasperation lacing her tone. She was clearly tired of not having the whole story, and he was going to fill her in, but he was interrupted by the click of Alastor's shoes drawing ever closer, accompanied by the infuriating, ever-present cheer in his voice.

"My dear, whatever's going on, I'm sure we can-"

"No!" Angel Dust screeched, letting go of Charlie and scrambling back. No, there was no way in the pentagram Alastor didn't know. He was babbling before he realized it, tone desperate and pleading. "No, Alastor please, I-I didn't mean ta do it, I promise, I was confused I, _please_ I don't wanna go!"

"Do _what?_" Alastor asked, furrowing his brow. With every step closer Angel Dust shoved himself back, as if that would do anything to delay the inevitable. "Angel Dust, I don't-"

He stopped short, eyes widening in realization as he looked Angel Dust over. The hall was silent, so much so that you could practically hear the other shoe drop. Or maybe that was the sound of Angel Dust's hopes for any kind of future crashing and burning. That was definitely what it felt like.

"Is anyone going to tell me what's going on?" Charlie sounded confused and frustrated and, really, Angel Dust couldn't blame her. If he were in her place he probably couldn't have been bothered to even deal with this shit. And now, after everything he had put her through, he felt like he at least owed her the truth.

"I made a deal with Al," he said, doing everything in his power to stop his voice from trembling. He couldn't, of course, but he tried.

"You _what?!_" Vaggie cried. Charlie, however, was silent. Shellshocked, by the look of it.

"I made a deal with Al," He repeated, keeping his eye contact with Charlie. "We made a bet. And I lost, and now he's gonna force me ta leave the hotel." His voice cracked, tears once again filling his eyes. He pushed himself up onto shaky legs, ignoring the tightness in his chest as he spoke. "Please, Charlie, I don't wanna go."

"I…" Charlie's eyes flickered to Alastor for a fraction of a second, almost looking red for a moment. Must have been a trick of the light. "Angel Dust, I can't break a demon deal. _No one_ can, not even Alastor."

"Okay, yeah, I get that," Angel Dust said. "But if you just buy my contract from Val, please, I'll never bother you again I _promise_."

"I've _tried_ to buy your contract but, Angel Dust, he's made it _very_ clear it's not for sale." She sighed, letting her anguish take over her features. "I'm sorry, I can't help you."

Angel Dust stopped, his expression falling. "I… what?" He felt his stomach sink, his hope sinking along with it.

"She's right, my dear." Alastor stepped forward, his expression almost sympathetic, but Angel Dust knew better than that. "This is out of even _my_ hands now, I'm afraid."

"Oh don't act like you're not fuckin' _thrilled_," Angel Dust snapped. "We both know you've been trying for this the whole goddamn time!"

"While I cannot deny my intentions near the start, I promise you I didn't plan this," Alastor said, as if he were fooling anyone.

"Oh bullshit," Angel Dust huffed.

"What reason do I have to lie?" Alastor asked. "Besides, this isn't _all_ bad now is it? Now you get to go out and explore once again, unhindered! You can even go pay a visit to your former employer, Valentino. Won't that be grand?"

Oh, that was too far. Angel Dust felt like he was going to be sick just thinking about it. There was no way Valentino didn't have his personal bitches out looking for him. The second he set foot outside they'd find him, they'd find him and they'd drag him back kicking and screaming. And Alastor _knew_ this, he knew this and he was still going to kick him out, even _taunt_ him over it. Angel Dust looked to Charlie, the look on her face damn near breaking him. This was it, his afterlife as he knew it was over. He wished he was being dramatic, but he knew he wasn't. He was thoroughly fucked, and there was no way out.

Charlie wasn't the only one looking at him like that, either. One glance around the room showed his fellow hotel mates, all of them staring at him with that pitiful expression. He couldn't take it. Angel Dust bit back his tears, turning his gaze down towards the ground and squeezing his eyes shut. Maybe if they were out of sight, he could pretend they weren't there.

"Oh, darling," came Alastor's voice, impossibly soft. He felt a hand on his chin, the touch surprisingly gentle. Before he could react his head was being tilted upwards, his eyes snapping open only to be met with the sight of Alastor's smiling face. There was something off about his smile. It wasn't sinister as usual, it wasn't the gloating that he expected, but instead it had the slightest tinge of sadness. "I know you'll miss the hotel, but perhaps this is for the best, hm? Now, better smile my dear, you're never fully dressed without one."

And with those words, something inside of Angel Dust snapped. His vision went red, his fur standing on end. He didn't even realize his fist was moving until it made contact with Alastor's cheek, snapping the radio demon's head to the side. Off in the distance he heard a tooth skitter across the floor, smacking into the wall as dark blood dripped onto the floor. Only stunned silence followed, the rest of the hotel's residents staring in shock as Angel Dust's entire body heaved in righteous fury.

"How fucking _dare you?!_" He couldn't help the way his words tore through his throat as a scream of wrath and anguish but, at this point, he didn't want to. "You _won_, isn't that enough you sick sonnovah bitch?! God damn, and I thought you had some _class!_"

Alastor stood perfectly still for a moment, his head twisted at an impossible angle. No doubt he was processing what had just happened, or plotting Angel Dust's untimely erasure, or, hell, probably both. But, in that moment, Angel Dust found he just didn't have a single fuck to give. After everything he had been through, after everything Alastor had _put_ him through, he had shit to say. And then, with no warning, Alastor's head snapped back into place with a sickening _crack_. All was silent as he stared at Angel Dust, not even a hint of static in the air. It was as if the room itself was holding its breath in anticipation of the bloodbath that was sure to follow.

A bloodbath that never came.

Angel Dust watched as Alastor stared at him a moment longer, looking more confused than anything. What the hell there was to be confused about Angel Dust couldn't be sure, but he sure as fuck wasn't going to hang around and find out. He huffed and put his fists down, letting his shoulders slouch in defeat. "So, this is it, huh? Guess I really gotta go."

Charlie's expression fell as she reached a hand out to him. "Angel Dust, wait, maybe we have time, we could-"

"There is no time," Alastor interrupted. He straightened himself out, folding his hands behind his back with an unreadable smile. "We've reached the end. If he doesn't leave, if he and I cross paths again, the consequences will be disastrous."

"Smiles, seein' you again is a consequence all by its own damn self," Angel Dust sighed. He could play that off as a joke, but he was sure everyone there knew he was serious as an overdose. He looked to Charlie, doing his best to not let her sullen expression tug at his heartstrings. "Tell ya what, how about I leave ya a little somethin' somethin', huh? Since I gotta book it on outta here, I'll let ya hold onto ta Nugs for a little while for me. They like it here, and they're a damn perfect snuggle bug. Consider it a parting gift." A gift with a selfish motive. He knew full well that Valentino wouldn't hesitate to hurt Fat Nuggets as some kind of twisted punishment, and that was the absolute last thing he needed right now. No, it was better to leave them here while he lied low for a while. Maybe he'd get lucky and Val wouldn't find him, and then he could have someone come pick up his little piggy. Or he'd wind up back at the studio. Either way, his pet would be safe.

Luckily for him, Charlie seemed to understand. She looked shocked for a moment before the meaning seemed to dawn on her and she nodded. "Yeah, yeah they can stay. I'll make sure _nothing_ happens to them."

"Thanks, dollface." Angel Dust took a deep breath before eyeing the rest of them. This was it. Wasn't like he had anything to pack up. Sure he had a few belongings, but if he was planning on lying low he knew from experience less stuff meant less problems. None of what he had left after his little meltdown was really great for lugging around, and leaving it here just meant that he wouldn't be carrying anything if he had to make a run for it.

Well, that wasn't quite true. There was _one_ thing he needed. "Hey, ya still got my phone? Figure I'll at least need that."

"Oh! Right, yeah." Charlie dug in her pocket, producing a familiar hellphone in a pink piggy case. He all but snatched it from her hands, pushing the side button to turn it on. Just as he left it, fully charged because Charlie was some kind of fuckin' angel, and with more notifications than he cared to sort through. He felt his stomach roll when he thought of how many of those must have been from Valentino. Running off to the hotel was bad enough, but he was going to be fuckin' _livid_ that he'd been ghosted. Wouldn't matter if it was forced or not.

All the more reason to go into hiding.

He gave one last wave before turning towards the door and shoving his hands in his pockets. Each step resounded through the lobby, hollow and uninterrupted. When he got to the door he stopped, glancing over his shoulder. Charlie was in tears, big surprise there, but even Vaggie and Husker looked pretty torn up. If he didn't know any better he'd say they actually looked sad to see him go. But, he _did_ know better, and he knew he wouldn't be missed. Even Charlie would eventually figure out the place would run a lot smoother without him. He was their last choice, he knew that from the beginning, and she would be better off focusing her efforts on someone redeemable. Someone worth her time. Alastor, rather than having the top of the world grin Angel Dust was expecting, barely had a smile at all. Niffty wasn't there, so it looked like he wouldn't be saying bye to her. Pity.

"Later, sluts." He gave them all a forced smile and a wink before he stepped out of the hotel's doors, hearing them click softly behind him. The second he was out of Alastor's sight he felt a shudder down his spine as the burning in his neck stopped. Well, there was definitely no turning back now. Who knew what Alastor would do to him if he saw him again. On the up side, he had one hell of an exit plan if things _really_ went south with Valentino.

Not that he planned on ever seeing _him_ again, either. First thing was first, he needed somewhere to lie low for a bit. He pulled his phone back out and hit Cherri Bomb's icon, putting it up to his ear as it rang. He could _always_ count on her in a bind, she'd let him stay with her for a few days.

"Hello?"

"Oh thank fuck." Angel Dust couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. "Hey, I need your help. I-"

"Just kidding! I don't feel like answering my phone for you dumb shits. Don't bother with a message, I ain't gonna fuckin' listen to it. Laters!"

Angel Dust felt his eye twitch. When he got his hands on her, best friend or no, he was going to throttle her. He waited for the beep, pointedly ignoring the answering message. He knew full well she'd listen to it when she saw it was from him. "Hey, pick up your damn phone every once in a while, yeah? Dunno what you're doing, but I gotta talk to ya. It's _urgent_." He hung up, letting out a breath. Well, there went that plan. Maybe he could call Molly.

Or, hey, maybe he could run from the car that was very clearly barreling towards him. The one that belonged to part of Valentino's crew.

Oh, oh shit. Yeah, no, he should definitely run from that. He turned and took off, moving as fast as his legs could carry him. Unfortunately, that wasn't nearly as fast as a speeding car. He skidded to a halt as the car pulled in front of him, tires screeching and the smell of burnt rubber filling the air. He watched in horror as two demons stepped out of the side door, snickering at him. He recognized them as two of Valentino's, some of his favorite hands for dirty work. One was a hulking boar demon, tusks glinting in the streetlights. The other was something that resembled a snake, fangs bared as he hissed. The boar nudged his partner with a grin. "Told ya sticking close to this hotel was a safe bet."

"Ssso you did," The snake nodded. He looked to Angel Dust, yellow eyes narrowing. "We've been looking _everywhere_ for you, Angel Dussst."

"Oh, you have?" Angel Dust took a step back, nervous smile twitching on his lips. Shit, this wasn't good. "What a coincidence, I've been lookin' for you guys too! So glad I found ya, really, was just on my way home."

"Oh yeah?" The boar snorted. "What, ya take a two week detour?"

"Ha, ha ha, yeah, about that- HEY!" The boar grabbed his arm, twisting it behind his back and shoving him down onto his knees. His phone clattered against the ground as the snake joined in, grabbing as many arms as he could manage and zip-tying them together. "Let go of me! You're gonna fuckin' regret this, you hear me?!"

"Oh I don't think _we're_ gonna regret jack shit," the boar snorted. He hoisted Angel Dust up, making him grunt in discomfort as he felt one of his shoulders pop. Talk about rough treatment.

"You sure will when you're missin' some _teeth!_" Angel Dust kicked one of his legs up, shrieking in surprise when the boar grabbed it and pulled his leg up until he was folded in half.

"Wow, he really isss flexsssible," the snake hissed in delight, grabbing Angel Dust's free leg. "Maybe we could-"

"Not a damn chance," the boar grunted. He pulled Angel Dust away from the other demon and shoved him into the car as easily as an old gym bag, slamming the door shut behind him. "You really want Val ta find out _we_ touched him first? I plan on keeping my job, thanks."

"Oh you're no fun," the snake huffed.

Angel Dust watched as they got into the front seats, kicking at the door in desperation. But no matter how hard he hit it, his efforts were fruitless. He looked to the rearview mirror, meeting the boars eyes and glaring at him. "I'm fuckin' serious! You better let me go _or else!_"

"Oh else _what? _You'll _blow_ me to death?" The boar mocked. He threw the car into reverse, pulling off the sidewalk before driving away. "Nice try, bitch, but I'm not buyin' it."

Angel Dust squirmed, twisting in the back seat to look out the rear window. He watched as the hotel he had called home these past few weeks faded into the distance, his will to fight fading with it.

No phone, no friends, no plan. This was it, he was fucked.


End file.
